The Secret Within
by estetson47
Summary: Set approx. eight months after SR. Following Richard’s departure, Lois and Clark’s passionate yet fragile relationship blossoms. But all is not well as personal demons, Jason’s growing resentment and a madman’s discovery threaten to tear them apart.
1. All is Not Bliss

**Title: The Secret Within**

**Summary: **It's been eight months since Superman's return to Earth. Richard is gone, Jason knows his true parentage, and Lois knows who Superman really is. But Lois and Clark's passionate relationship is built on shaky ground. They must contend not only with Jason's growing resentment of the man who's taken the place of the only father he's ever known, but also their insecurities with each other.

**A/N: **I appreciate positive feedback and constructive criticism as it lets me know what works and what doesn't. I hope you enjoy the story.

* * *

**Chapter 1: All is Not Bliss**

Mornings. If it were possible to start the day without them, Lois Lane would have discovered how by now. Lying in bed, she reached lazily over to the nightstand and hit the snooze button on her alarm clock. She pulled the white sheet up to her chin and shut her eyes, just as the air conditioner rumbled on and a cool breeze brushed her naked skin.

Five months. 151 days. That's how many nights Clark Kent had slipped into her bed, and that's how many mornings she'd woken up alone. She thought, just once, it would be nice for him to wake up beside her, to see his rumpled hair and gaze into his sexy blue eyes. To see him stretch his arms out above his head and stifle a yawn. Was he a morning person? Hell, she didn't even know if he ate his breakfast then brushed his teeth, or brushed his teeth and then ate his breakfast.

Sometimes, she'd awaken in the morning and her hands would instinctively slide over to the other side of the bed, feeling the warm sheets he just minutes ago abandoned. Other times she'd wake up in the dead of night to find him watching her. He'd be lying on his side, his hands tucked underneath the pillow to prop up his head.

Like last night. She awoke around 1:30 a.m., feeling that familiar dip to one side that could only mean he'd slipped in beside her. He whispered an apology for waking her as he sometimes did. They talked for a few minutes before he brushed his hand through her hair, taking a few strands between his thumb and index finger. He then gave her a shy, devilish grin and pulled her on top of him, and they exchanged a passionate kiss that quickly escalated. He picked her up out of bed and pushed her back flat against the wall, her knees resting on his waist and his hand folded on the back of her head like a pillow. She dug her nails into his smooth skin, pushing her mouth into his warm shoulder to stifle screams she was sure would wake their sleeping son down the hallway.

Sometimes she wondered if waking her was, on a subconscious level, intentional.

He never stayed the entire night, just long enough until she had fallen asleep again. He said that he needed to make sure he was available should anyone need his help. But she suspected that was only a half-truth. Somewhere within the last several months Jason's fascination with a certain superhero had grown into bitter resentment. Richard was gone, and along with him the only father he'd ever known.

Pushing the sheets off her body, she sat up and focused on the red blur on her alarm clock. 6:45 a.m., just enough time to hop in the shower, walk Jason to school and make the 8:00 a.m. staff meeting. Standing up, she winced at the coarse pain that shot through her stiff back and legs and delicately put on her bathrobe. In the bathroom she splashed water on her face, noticing she'd broken two fingernails. She reached into the drawer and pulled out a nail file and tried in vain to smoothen the jagged edges. She sighed. At this rate she soon wouldn't have any nails left.

She stepped into the shower, letting the warm water soothe her aching body. Outside she heard the faint roar of a city starting to awaken. Despite being 21 stories up, she could hear the faint sound of sirens mixed with the hum of cars barreling down the street. Since she'd left Richard, she'd had to abandon their beautiful house on Riverside Drive. But then, a part of her had always regretted leaving the big city in the first place.

Her two-bedroom unit was quite small, but considering the location there was no way she could pass it up. Jason's school was five blocks to the east, and the Daily Planet six blocks north of the school. It had been love at first sight. Its historic architecture, narrow hallways and old, creaking floorboards simply added to its charm. From her bedroom, a pair of glass paned French doors opened to a large, private balcony facing the river, treasured as much for the view as the isolation a top floor apartment could provide for a certain man in blue tights.

Clark, in contrast, lived on the other side of town in a place much larger than her own. She'd been there only a handful of times, but the brown brick building reminded her of a mental institution she'd once seen in a horror movie. That his apartment was functional was the greatest compliment she could give it. He'd lined with walls with simple pencil drawings and packed the rooms with Earth-toned furniture he'd picked up in some second-hand shop. It gave the place a lived-in look despite the fact that he was almost never there.

She stepped out of the shower and pulled a towel around her. Outside her bedroom door she heard dishes and utensils clanging together. Jason was in the kitchen fixing a bowl of cereal for breakfast. He'd gotten pretty good at helping himself. Richard had always been very good at preparing a hot breakfast, but now most meals were takeout, pre-packaged or cold.

Pulling the vanity mirror open, she squirted some minted toothpaste on her toothbrush and called out to him. "Jason, honey! Get your shoes on, it's almost time to go." She could hear him scurrying around, a faint "Okay, mommy!" and the unmistakable _thump_ of his backpack being thrown on the floor.

The idea of single motherhood never fazed Lois. Her strong, independent personality pretty much got her through any of life's twists and turns, and she was confident she'd have no trouble raising a child alone. But one jolt of reality injected into her after Richard left was how much he simplified her life. She didn't fully comprehend his contributions, making lunches, picking up Jason from school, attending parent-teacher conferences, until all those responsibilities fell to her alone.

She quickly put on a navy blue business suit and met her son in the kitchen. "Good morning, sweetie." She kissed him on the forehead and grabbed her briefcase that had been sitting on the chair. Throwing her cell phone into her bag, she crouched onto her knees to speak with him at eye level. "You take all your medications? Got your bag? Good." She hugged him and helped him put on his backpack.

Once outside, she held Jason closely as she crossed the street, weaving between the crowds that had already started to form. Down the street she came to a stop in front of Marty's Coffee, a small, one-man street vendor that, despite appearances, had the best damn coffee in town. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited her turn. "Coffee with skim milk, please."

"Good morning, Miss Lane!" Marty was a man in his fifties, whose one-size-too-small toupee could be seen peering out of his red baseball cap. He had stood on the street corner serving her coffee every day since she moved into her apartment. He was, in the words of her doorman, something of a permanent fixture on Taylor Street. A friendly man with two sons, he was constantly trying to fix her up with his eldest, Charles, a doctor at Metropolis Hospital.

"This here's great stuff!" Marty exclaimed, holding up a copy of the Daily Planet, where Lois' byline shined boldly below the lead article. "I'm showing it to every one of my customers and telling them, Lois Lane buys my coffee!" He struck the paper with his hand as he said the words.

She smiled broadly, touched by his flattery. Her work on the trial of Bobby Knightly was amongst her finest. He was a murderer, coined the Metropolis Stalker, who'd been accused of stalking and killing six women in the city over the last year. He'd finally been caught when she cracked a lead that directly led to his arrest. Tomorrow, his fate was going to be determined and she was going to be there to see him put behind bars forever.

Snapping out of her reverie, she felt Jason tug at her hand as she took a sip of steaming hot, freshly brewed coffee. "Mommy, do I have a brother?" She spit out the mouthful she had taken, some of which splattered on her white blouse. She cursed, grabbed a napkin and quickly brushed the liquid away, then looked over at the headline to which her son was pointing.

_I Had Superman's Baby! Exclusive Photos Inside! _The headline screamed in ultra bold black ink. Emblazoned on the front were two side-by-side photos, one of a woman watching a baby who appeared to be levitating in his crib, and the other of Superman carrying her in his arms. She reached up to grab it, her hand grazing the cover before she caught herself and shook her head fiercely.

"No, sweetie. Let's go. Marty, thanks again." She pulled a couple bills from her wallet and tossed them on the countertop. Grabbing Jason's hand they walked the remaining blocks to his school.

When they arrived, she kissed him on the head and watched him traverse up the steps into the building. Its red brick façade was reminiscent of her elementary school, complete with a flagpole out front. As she turned away she saw him trip and fall onto his knees, the contents of his backpack spilling over the steps. Before she could react, a teacher rushed over to help him, just as several older kids walked by pointing and laughing. She held back the obscenities forming on her lips, for she knew that would only make things worse for him. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

She checked her watch. 7:48 a.m. She high-tailed her butt the next six blocks to the Daily Planet.

* * *

As the elevator doors opened, she strutted into the bustling newsroom. Her co-workers had already begun massing in the conference room for the staff meeting. She placed her bag on her desk and picked up a notebook. The sound of heavy laughter caused her to turn her head, and as she did so caught sight of one of her co-workers holding up the tabloid she'd seen earlier with Jason. 

His name was Mitchell, a greasy-haired 20-year-old who worked in the mailroom and spent most of his day telling lewd jokes. He enjoyed a friendly camaraderie with two gray-haired reporters, Samson and Tucker, who spent most of their days writing obits and telling tales she suspected never happened.

"What if Superman had a kid? Could you imagine a child with his powers running around? Oops, daddy, I leaned on the school bus and it tipped over." Mitchell spoke to his two older counterparts. The group erupted in laughter.

Jimmy, catching wind of the conversation as he passed by, added quickly, "I think Superman could never raise a bad kid." Lois made a mental note to buy him a drink.

They ignored him. "Who knows if he can even have kids. For that matter, he might not have all the right, you know, parts to even make it happen!" Samson growled as he removed his bifocals and wiped the lenses on his shirt.

Noticing Lois had walked in the room, Samson said, pointedly to her. "Now there's someone who might know." The trio turned to look at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Do you always read the tabloids, Samson? Working on obits for so long must have mummified your brain."

Samson took her remark as a challenge and walked up to her, pushing his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath. "So what's it like, you know, doing it in the air?"

Lois closed the inches wide gap between them and stared directly into his eyes and said in a deathly calm voice, "I wouldn't know."

Samson was surprised by the sincerity of her answer, but Lois couldn't be accused of good acting, because in this instance, she didn't have to. They had never made love in the air. That's right, Superman's secret lover was _not_ a card-carrying member of the mile high club. _But that was going to have to change, and soon._

As she was about to lash out her next quip, Perry came out of his office, dressed in black slacks and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "Samson, get that shit out of my sight or you'll be at their door begging for a job." Then he turned towards the crowded newsroom. "Okay, everyone! Listen up! Staff meeting in five minutes!" As people scurried into the conference room, he looked directly at Lois and asked, "Where's Kent?"

Before Lois could respond, someone did so for her.

"I'm right here, Mr. White," Clark answered. He waved a shy hello and then turned towards Lois. "Hi!"

Lois smiled. As their eyes met it was like an electric current shot between them. It didn't go unnoticed by Perry, who looked between them slightly perplexed.

It was a look both of them had gotten used to. More than a few heads turned when they had started openly dating. She had to admit that, on the surface, they did appear mismatched. Her headstrong, take no prisoners approach completely overwhelmed his mild-mannered decorum. She guessed that some thought he was no more than an amusing rebound for her. A time to fool around before she got it on with a real man, she heard one of them say the other day. Of course, she alone knew the punch line to that joke.

They followed Perry into the conference room.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Lois and Clark were down at Metropolis Graphics & Printing, waiting to interview Martin Levy, the father of one of the Metropolis Strangler's victims. He wanted to give some final words before the verdict was read tomorrow. They sat together in the reception area, the lone secretary juggling a switchboard of calls. Lois had her own cell phone pressed up against her ear for the last five minutes, and Clark tuned in once he realized it was about Jason. 

She hung up the phone. "He got into a fight at school."

Clark filled with panic, but Lois immediately reassured him. "Nothing like that, Clark. But they want me to come pick him up."

"I'll be happy to take care of the interview myself. It's no trouble," he said reassuringly.

Lois stood up and picked an imaginary piece of lint off her suit. "Actually I was hoping you could pick Jason up and bring him back to my place."

It was a simple request. Why did it fill him with such dread?

"You're not afraid of a five-year-old are you?" She teased, then immediately wiped the smirk off her face when he saw the terror in his eyes.

"I-I don't know, Lois. I haven't been his favorite person lately. He might get upset."

"Clark, he's five. He gets upset when Spongebob is pre-empted." She put her hand on his arm. "He's your son. You'll do fine! Besides, I think this will be good for you."

At that moment Martin Levy walked through the door. She stood up and whispered into his ear, "Take him flying. He told me the other day how much he loves it."

"Uh, okay Lois."

"Thanks, Clark. I appreciate it." She kissed him on the cheek and followed Levy into his office. The sound of the door slamming shut made him jump out of his seat.

* * *

Minutes later, Superman was soaring high above the Metropolis skyline. He glided down to a wooded area behind the school, a row of thick oak trees disguising his descent. Changing quickly, he approached the school with a trepidation he couldn't quite identify. Adjusting to a new school hadn't been easy for Jason, whose shyness made it difficult for him to make friends. Clark's own accounts of his elementary school days made him sympathize with his son, but he doubted Jason would appreciate listening to stories about his childhood. 

Inside the school, the yellow walls were covered with large color drawings scribbled on poster board, each displaying a photo and facts about a different planet in the solar system. He gave his name at the front office and sat down on a cold metal chair and waited. He could hear voices nearby and peered through the adjoining wall to watch a teacher tutor a pair of struggling students in math.

A few minutes later, the door opened and a young woman, 25ish, walked in with long blonde hair and hazel eyes. "Mr. Kent?" Her voice was warm and soothing.

Clark stood up and shook her outstretched hand. "Hi, I'm Miss Thomas, Jason's teacher. If you'll follow me, please." She led him further down the hallway from whence he came, rounding the corner and coming to a stop in front of a small classroom.

He looked inside. Black chalkboards completely lined the wall behind the teacher's desk. Small yellow plastic chairs attached to metal desks were arranged in five rows. Jason sat in the far corner from the door next to the teacher's desk.

"Jason, dear, look who's here." Her soft voice prompted the boy to look up. He met Clark's eyes and quickly turned away. To Clark, she said, "Why don't you have a seat."

He grabbed the nearest desk chair and slid it forward. He tried to sit down, but his long legs and torso became tangled within the frame and he got stuck. "Oh, my." His face blushed crimson as he banged the desk up and down on the floor, eventually extracting himself.

Thinly veiling her amusement, Miss Thomas offered to switch seats and give Clark the teacher's chair, to which he quickly obliged. Once they settled down she began. "Mr. Kent, the reason I asked you, or Miss Lane, I should say, to come here today is because Jason had a little problem this afternoon." Turning towards the boy she said, "Would you like to tell your dad what happened?"

Jason flew out of his chair, which slammed into the chalkboard and sent an eraser and chalk flying onto the floor. "He's not my dad!" He ran to the other side of the room, weaving in between the rows of desks and slumping down in the corner, grabbing his knees in his hands and raising them up to his chin.

Clark felt his eyes well up with tears, and he blinked quickly to make them disappear. In that instant, he would have rather been freefalling from the stratosphere plunging to his death than to see that look on his son's face.

The teacher put her hand over her mouth, realizing her mistake. A warm auburn blush rose in her cheeks. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Kent. I should have guessed, different last names and all."

"It's okay, Miss Thomas. It's an honest mistake." He tried not to let the pain in his heart seep through to his voice.

Catching Clark's sorrowful face, Mrs. Thomas added, "You know, you're not alone. There are a lot of step-dads in my class. It sometimes helps…" But her words faded into the sound of traffic speeding down the street. _Step-dad_. _He'd settle for that honor right now_.

He cleared his throat, composing himself. "So, uh, what's this about Jason getting into a fight?"

The relief at the change in subject was revealed in her heavy sigh. "Yes. Robert, another boy in my class, was celebrating his birthday today. His mom brought in a cake for the class to share and as soon as we finished singing _Happy Birthday_ and Robert blew out the candles, Jason," she glanced briefly over at the boy, "pushed his hand into the cake and ruined it." She gestured to the mangled mess on her desk.

Clark eyed the remnants of the cake. Though only a small portion remained intact, specks of royal blue attached to an unmistakable set of red boots told him in exactly what shape the cake originally arrived. He looked over at Jason, who met his gaze and gave him a dirty look.

Mrs. Thomas continued, unaware of the exchange. "Robert of course got very upset. That's how the fight started. Robert took a hard swipe at him. Frankly, I'm surprised Jason doesn't have a big bruise on his face. I've already spoken with his mom and the boys have apologized to each other. But the reason I called you down here Mr. Kent is that I'm worried about Jason. His behavior lately has been erratic. His teacher at his last school told me he was a model student. What I'm trying to figure out is what has happened recently that may have caused this change in behavior."

Clark looked away from the cake and down at the hands in his lap. "His, uh, father moved to London about six months ago." He made sure he enunciated and spoke the word _father_ loudly. "He still calls him nearly every day, and they've seen each other several times since."

She nodded, understanding. "Still, it isn't the same. That's quite an adjustment he's been asked to make. Listen, Mr. Kent, I just wanted to make sure you were aware of the severity of his behavior lately, and to help shed some light on what is going on with him. Our conversation helped a lot, but considering the circumstances you might want to put Jason into some sort of counseling."

He didn't know what to say. Counseling? It seemed like a reasonable idea but what was Jason possibly going to say? _The father I always thought was mine isn't and that my father is really Superman? Oh, that would go over well._

They rose and shook hands. Clark called out to Jason, telling him it was time to go home. For a moment he didn't move, and he thought he was going to have to either pick him up and carry him, or call Lois and have her take him home. He didn't know which scenario was worse. _If she were here she'd know exactly what to say_. How could he feel so inept with his own son?

But Jason soon came of his own volition. They wandered through the hallways, with Jason walking a few feet in front of him. When they got outside, Clark recalled what Lois had said to him earlier that afternoon. "Do you, uh, want to go for a little ride?" He said very softly, pointing up to the sky.

But Jason simply shook his head.

"Uh, okay. We'll walk then." He tried not to let the disappointment seep into his words. As they walked back towards Lois' apartment, he kept close tabs on him, his senses attuned to every car and person moving along the street. But threatening to drown out all the other sounds was the loudness of Jason's heart, which was beating so fast Clark thought it might burst out of his little body.

TO BE CONTINUED

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**A/N:** I admit I don't know the first thing about 5-year-olds. Can they even read? I am a little concerned that I am writing Jason a little older than he is. He's supposed to be smart and intuitive, but appropriately so for his age. If he ever comes across as completely unrealistic, I would appreciate someone letting me know! 


	2. Breaking Up is Hard to Do

**Chapter 2: Breaking Up is Hard to Do**

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to submit a review. I can't tell you how much I appreciate receiving your comments.

* * *

Lois shot through the front door of her apartment and tossed her keys on the coffee table, which made a loud clang as metal hit glass. In her right hand were two bags of piping hot food from Rita's Gourmet House. She placed them on the kitchen counter and opened them, inhaling the sweet aroma of cheese and pasta sauce. 

"Jason, go wash your hands. Then please set the table," she said, rushing to the bedroom.

"But, mommy…" came his plea from the kitchen.

"No, buts, Jason. Just do it."

Reluctantly, he pushed the blue plastic step stool over to the kitchen sink and stepped up to the faucet, lathering his hands with two large gobs of liquid soap. After rinsing, he reached over to grab a paper towel, which dangled from a roll just beneath a cabinet. He pushed himself up on the tips of his toes and stretched out his hand as far as he could reach. To close the final inch he pushed off the stool, grabbing the towel but sending the stool careening into the dishwasher.

"Jason?" Lois called from the bedroom.

"I'm all right, mommy!" He bent down and pushed the stool over to the other side of the sink, dragging it along the floor so its plastic feet screeched along the ceramic tile. He stepped up and grabbed two plates from the cabinet and placed them on the counter.

In her bedroom, Lois stood in front of her open closet. She pushed aside hangers full of outfits, dismissing each one in turn. Clark would be here any minute. She silently cursed for being so late but fortunately, he was never on time either. All afternoon she had been across town trying to get an interview with Miles Sutton, a gift shop owner whose establishment had been the target of a gang-related robbery. The police had held him for nearly three hours and by the time she had the chance to talk to him he'd been convinced not to talk to the press. It had taken her less than eight minutes, however, to get him to tell her the story. No one could keep a secret from Lois Lane for very long.

She passed up several more outfits when her hands came to rest on a simple black dress, garnished with a single strand of lace that cut the top from the bottom. With spaghetti straps and a sexy scoop neckline that still left plenty to the imagination, she gleamed in satisfaction at her selection.

She slipped the dress over her head and wiggled her hips to will it into place around her body. Watching her movements in the mirror, she hastily pushed her hair up with bobby pins, releasing several curls to frame her face.

She rushed back into the kitchen and eyed the table Jason had just finished setting. "You know Clark is coming over, honey, please set a third place setting." Ignoring her, Jason pushed his yellow Tonka truck across the room, releasing a loud _vroom_ as he did so.

She transferred the contents from the bag into a large glass pan, sprinkling some fresh parmesan cheese on top, giving it the best homemade impression she could muster. Satisfied, she pulled out a bottle of champagne. As she was pushed a corkscrew into the top, the phone rang. She pressed the receiver up to her cheek, gripping it with her shoulder as she used both hands to pop the cork off the bottle. "Richard?"

A moment of silence. "Lois? How did you know it was me?"

"You always call this time of day," she said gently. They exchanged pleasantries and spoke for a few moments before she handed the phone to Jason, who was still sitting on the floor. "Honey, it's your dad."

He grabbed the phone out of her hands, exclaimed "Daddy!" and ran into his room and slammed the door.

Before she could react, there was a knock at the front door. She rushed back to her bedroom and felt blindly with her feet into the dark closet for her favorite pair of black high-heeled shoes. Slipping them on, she went to answer the door.

"You don't have to knock," she said, waving him inside.

Clark stood before her, slouching, dressed in a brown plaid business suit and his trademark glasses that obscured his beautiful blue eyes.

He smiled shyly, "I know." Removing his suit jacket, he placed it neatly onto the back of one of the kitchen chairs. In ritual movements, he removed his matching plaid vest and put it gently on top of the jacket, smoothing it out to avoid any wrinkles. Next, he loosened his brown tie, striped with wide white lines, and slipped it off his head. As he reached up to his collar, Lois pushed his hands away and unbuttoned the top three buttons, revealing bare skin underneath. She slipped her fingers underneath his shirt, letting them linger for just a moment. He grabbed one of his shirt cuffs and unbuttoned it, then rolled up his sleeve as Lois did the same with his other sleeve. Lastly, he removed his glasses and tucked them into the pocket of his suit jacket while Lois weaved both her hands through his hair.

"It's good to see you again," she said softly, smiling. She stretched up onto her toes and gave him a kiss. His change in demeanor once stripped of his disguise, whether business suit or blue suit, was intoxicating. Once she realized that Superman was Clark Kent, she recalled how moments of Clark-ness would creep up during their time together. The shy smiles, country-boy charm, and slight naiveté, all mixed in with a physical strength and self-assurance that finally made her see they were pieces of the same puzzle.

Lois walked back to the kitchen counter.

"Do you need any help?" He offered, but she just gestured for him to sit down.

"Vegetable lasagna," she said, answering the question forming on his lips as she brought it over to the table. "And for dessert we have lemon meringue pie."

"It looks delicious. You really didn't have to go to all this trouble."

She waved her hand in dismissal. "Nah! It was nothing." Silently she pushed the paper bag that read "Rita's Gourmet House" into the garbage. She had promised him dinner, that is, a home cooked meal, but surely he knew this was the closest to such a concept she ever got.

"Jason! Dinner's ready!"

He didn't come. Angrily, she walked back to his room but stopped short when he heard his voice.

Clark made the effort to not listen in, but that was a hard promise to make with super hearing. He focused on the TV tuned to a football game in the apartment above, only to have his efforts punctured by his son's words, "I don't want to!" and "I hate him!" repeated over and over.

"Richard," she said quietly, knowing she stated the obvious.

Clark simply nodded.

A few moments later, Jason's door opened, and the boy walked slowly into the kitchen, his face hanging. He stepped up onto the stool and grabbed another plate, hesitating a moment before setting it in front of Clark.

"Thank you," Clark said warmly. Lois smiled.

Without looking up, Jason said softly, "Daddy says that I should be a little nicer to you." Lois stifled a laugh.

"Okay, cool!"

With the ice broken, at least for the evening, dinner went on without incident. For a few minutes that night, Lois thought it felt like, for the first time, that they were a family. Jason was quiet and said very little, but he didn't blow up at Clark either.

Later, when it was time for bed, Jason kissed his mother goodnight. Remembering his promise to his dad, he waved reluctantly to Clark from across the room.

"Goodnight, Jason!" Clark's voice bellowed.

As his door closed, Lois remarked how her son's movement reminded her of the man sitting next to her. Together, they cleaned up the table and put the dishes in the sink, then settled into the living room.

Clark sat down on the couch, stretching his long legs out onto the footrest while Lois lay down and put her head upon his chest.

"I've been thinking," she began, lazily tracing circles with her fingers on his chest, "maybe you two should spend some time together." Before he could say anything she continued, "Jason's school has this father-son weekend where everyone goes on a camping trip together up to Mount Airy Lake. He's a little young for that, but maybe you could find out what Jason would like to do."

Clark shifted uncomfortably. "A guys-only weekend? I don't know if we're ready for that Lois. Just because Richard told him…"

She reached up behind her and cupped his head in her hands. He gave each one a soft kiss. "Just think about it." They lay still for a few minutes, enjoying a peace that came all too rarely.

"Stay with me tonight," she whispered.

She needn't ask twice. He picked her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He pulled down the comforter, folding it neatly at the edge of the bed, then placed her gently down on the mattress. Then he removed his shirt and pants and snuggled up behind her, pulling her into his arms and resting his head against the nape of her neck.

Early the next morning, Lois woke up alone. Reaching over to where he'd been the night before she found a note, carefully folded in half and laying on the pillow. It read, "I just remembered that I forgot to feed my fish. I'll see you at work. Love, Clark." She laughed, remembering the last time he used that line with her, five years ago.

* * *

Lois, Jimmy and another reporter, Alexa Huntington, were gathered in Perry's office. Perry held up the article that would headline tomorrow's paper. "I am so proud of you, Lois. This is great work!" 

"Thanks, Chief." She had just returned from the courthouse after listening to the verdict in the Bobby Knightly trial. Life in prison.

Her top-notch, investigative reporting was instrumental in his capture, and did not go unnoticed by Knightly. As he was removed from the courtroom by the bailiff, he looked pointedly at Lois and screamed about how he was going to make her pay someday. His words sent a shiver down her spine but she stood up and walked proudly out of the courtroom. She likened it to the feeling Clark must have when he saves someone.

"Where's Clark been all day? Why wasn't he helping you with this?" Perry asked.

"Oh, uh, he's been feeling a little under the weather today." She was surprised how easily the lies rolled off her tongue these days. He'd been in India helping the victims of a massive earthquake all morning and had only returned in the last hour.

"Really? He looked fine when I saw him ten minutes ago." Alexa was a veteran reporter who'd been with the Daily Planet for nearly twenty years. She'd landed a few winning stories over the years, but she was no match for Lois Lane.

"Actually, Lois, it's you who's looking a little tired today," Jimmy said, pointing to the bags underneath her eyes.

"I'm fine, really."

Just then there was a loud _thud_ outside Perry's office. The group simultaneously turned towards the sound, and saw Clark standing next to a small file cabinet holding his knee.

"I just don't know what you see in that guy," Alexa said, shaking her head.

"Excuse me?" Lois asked, reeling in her irritation.

"Well, Lois," she continued with a nervous laugh, tossing her long blonde hair out of her face. "Don't get me wrong. Clark's a nice guy, but he's not exactly your type. I mean, going from a guy like Richard to him? What were you thinking?"

"Oh, so now you're an expert on my love life."

Alexa laughed, while Perry and Jimmy looked on at the catfight emerging before their eyes. "Well you do have an affinity for tall men with dark hair and blue eyes. And both Richard and Clark look a lot like…"

"Look like who?" she demanded.

Alexa could see the fire forming in her eyes, realizing she had struck a nerve. "Sorry, Lois. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just some of us think you're with him because, well frankly, you couldn't get the real thing."

"Is that what you think?" She looked from Alexa, then to Jimmy, who immediately diverted his gaze to analyze the patterns on the carpet. "It's nice to know my colleagues hold me in such high regard."

She stomped out the door, not looking back. Her mind was reeling. If Alexa was making comparisons of Clark to Superman, how many other people were doing the same? His disguise worked not because his glasses did such a great job of masking his face, but because his personality was so different from that of Superman no one would ever suspect him. He was shy, unassuming, invisible, as he needed to be. But at that moment she likened herself in Clark's life to a woman wearing red to a funeral.

She sat down at her desk and began tapping loudly away at her keyboard. Looking over at Clark, she mumbled softly underneath her breath. A moment later, she walked over to the elevator, hitting the button for the top floor. She made eye contact with him as the doors closed in front of her.

When she got on the roof, Superman was waiting for her.

She paced around the small rooftop, letting her anger dissipate before opening her mouth. It was windy, and she had to hold down her hair with her hand. "People are starting to talk. It has me worried."

"Do you worry about what other people think?"

"No, of course not! But what if someone starts putting two and two together?"

"People will always make comparisons, there's no way around that. The best thing to do is not call attention to it."

"What if someone finds out? What then? What will happen to you if…" He reached down and pressed his hands to her cheeks, willing her to calm down.

"We just have to be careful," he said reassuringly as his cape billowed in the wind.

"I just… Sometimes I think about how much more difficult I've made your life. Me and Jason."

He smiled, "It was already that way, long before I ever met you. And besides, you and Jason are a blessing, not a complication."

She smiled, looking up into his sapphire blue eyes, "How are we going to handle this?"

"We'll," he started, moving away from her. "I think it's come to the point where we need to end our relationship."

Her heart stopped. "What?"

He smiled, shaking his head. "What I mean Lois is that I think you need to break up with Superman."

"You're not serious."

"Of course I am. You can't be dating two men at once," he laughed.

She shook her head, "You're terrible."

Moving in closer to her, he said, "Of course, if you would rather break up with Clark Kent…"

"No, no!" She rested her hands on his chest, circling his "S" symbol with her finger. "Superman, I can't see you anymore. I'm in love with another man."

"Well then, I guess this is goodbye."

She slapped him playfully, "You're going to let me go, just like that? No fight?"

"No fight," he whispered, pulling her towards him for a kiss. "But I do have one request. Will you come with me for one last flight?"

"Where would we go?"

"Anywhere you want."

"Paris?"

"Not a problem."

"Vienna?"

He shook his head.

"Up a mile high?"

"Excuse me?"

* * *

Perry was livid. The copy boy had just spilled coffee all over his shirt, and the production office just called to say they put out a small fire which would shut down the presses, probably all night, and delay the morning edition. To top it off, his wife had just yelled at him for forgetting about a dinner party tonight. There was only one place to clear his head at the Daily Planet. 

Exiting the elevator, he pulled open the stairwell door that led to the roof, and stopped dead in his tracks.

Voices, whispers really, carried through the air and clearly down the stairwell. One was Lois Lane, of that he was certain. But the other was too low pitched to be Clark Kent, and that's who, he surmised, it should have been.

"So what do you think?" Lois' voice said.

"It's an idea with… possibilities," the man's voice bellowed.

"What about right now?"

"Don't you have an article to write?" The man laughed.

"Aren't you the one I need to interview in order to write it?"

A moment of silence. Perry sat down on the steps, in disbelief over what he was hearing.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making it easier for you."

"You're unbelievable."

"I would uh, help you with yours, but seeing as how you wear them on the outside it won't help us much," her voice was playful.

"I love you, Lois Lane."

"Sweep me off my feet, Superman."

Still sitting on the steps, Perry heard a _swoosh_ and the voices suddenly silenced. He held his hand to his beating heart. _Oh shit_.

* * *

The morning edition had made it out on time after all. Perry sat inside his office, basking in the pleasure of watching his employees go about their business. He glanced over at Clark, who was standing by Lois' desk. He was laughing at something she had said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "That guy's oblivious," he muttered. 

Watching them separate, he saw Clark head toward the elevators. In a moment of decision, he jumped out of his chair. "Hold that elevator!" Perry yelled as he came rushing over.

It was a long ride down to the lobby, but soon the elevator chimed and the crowd exited. Clark waited for everyone to file out before him, which made it easier for Perry to grab him by the shoulder.

"Oh hi, Mr. White," Clark said shyly.

"Kent," he cleared his throat, still not sure if his chosen course of action was the right one. "Let me buy you a drink."

"Huh?"

"Murphy's across the street. It's Happy Hour."

"Oh, Mr. White. I can't. Lois is waiting for me."

"It can wait." Perry held a firm grasp on Clark's shoulder, practically dragging him across the lobby and down the steps in front of the Daily Planet.

Murphy's was an Irish pub with rustic décor and aged, round wooden tables. Its location at the center of the business district meant it attracted heavy crowds early, and tonight was no exception. The air was musty and filled with cigarette smoke.

Perry pushed Clark onto a stool at the bar. To the bartender he said, "Two of whatever you got." Then he turned to Clark, "This may seem presumptuous of me. Your personal life is none of my business."

Clark's eyes widened in horrific anticipation of where Perry's train of thought would lead.

"Look Clark, I like you. You're a nice guy and a damn good reporter. But you're also a little naïve so I'm not going to sugar-coat this for you." He took a sip of his beer. "Lois is cheating on you."

"E-E-Excuse me? W-with whom?" He really hoped this conversation wasn't going where he thought it was.

"I think you know whom," he responded.

_It was going where he thought it was_.

He took another sip of beer. "Frankly, Clark, you're not her type. Richard was and she strung him along for five long years. I don't want to see her do to you what she did to him. You understand?"

Clark's eyes narrowed, trying to keep a straight face. "Y-yes, Mr. White."

Perry took a deep gulp of his beer and gasped. In all of thirty seconds he had said what needed to be said. Satisfied, he stood up. He threw a couple of bills on the counter, patted Clark on the shoulder, and walked out of the bar.

Clark remained seated on the stool, staring at the beer in his hands, not knowing whether it was appropriate to laugh.

TO BE CONTINUED


	3. Getting the Pink Slip

**Chapter 3: Getting the Pink Slip**

Lois sat at her desk perusing through her notes. A gas leak had caused an explosion in a 120-unit apartment building and, although no one was seriously injured, all of its residents were displaced. The fire department was investigating the cause, but her source indicated a disgruntled government employee might have tampered with the gas line.

She pulled off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to will away a looming headache. Concentrating this morning was a difficult task, and she'd been staring for the last half hour at a blank computer screen. She closed her eyes and focused on taking deep breaths. Was it just her imagination, or were all her co-workers extra noisy today? A photocopier hummed as it shuffled and collated stacks of paper, fingertips tapped away at keyboards, the coffee machine _tap-tapped_ as it dribbled slowly into a glass pitcher. On the other side of the newsroom, a woman was talking on the phone, and for a moment, she thought she could hear the man on the other end of the line, until suddenly the voice was replaced by words she needn't strain to hear.

"Lois Lane! In my office, now!" It was Perry, and from the way he carefully pronounced each syllable in her name she knew something was amiss. She pushed herself up out of her chair and headed towards his office while some of her co-workers looked onward. Were they whispering? Laughing? She was too tired to inquire, but gave them a cold hard stare all the same.

"You wanted to see me, Chief?" Where so many others would cower under the cold eyes and pissed off words of Perry White, she reveled in it. For the root of his anger towards her was often because she had pushed the envelope too far, thereby getting a story no one else could, in which case his reaction was one to relish. But she could think of no recent cause that fit that scenario, and so his summons left her uneasy.

He slammed the door behind her and walked methodically back to his desk, which was a mess of articles and newspapers piled five or six issues deep. Atop that pile sat a lone, half-eaten chocolate-glazed doughnut on a white napkin. He pulled the top paper off the stack and tossed it in front of her. "What the hell is this?"

She looked at it closely and answered calmly, "Today's edition of the Metropolis Star." But that was clearly not what he wanted to hear, so she read further, this time unable to mask her surprise. "An article about Superman saving victims of the earthquake." It was, in fact, upon closer viewing an article containing details about a cover up that he'd conspicuously left out of her conversation with him. Now the Star had published it first and rendered her morning submission on the same subject soft and gritless.

"And what does it say beneath the headline?" He turned his back to her and stared out the window. A scaffold holding two window cleaners was positioned at the floor above them, and she could clearly hear their brushes sweeping hard against the glass. The only visible evidence of them, however, was two thick black cables that dangled from the platform.

She began reading the article, but Perry stopped her. "Before the article begins."

Inwardly groaning, she appeased his request. "An exclusive interview with Superman, by Veronica Messner."

Perry turned around, folding his arms in front of him. "That's right! An exclusive interview! A four-page, in depth interview with Superman!" He moved in so close to her that Lois swore she could see the bloody veins pulsing in his eyes. "Now what's wrong with this picture?"

Her head was welling up, her concentration faltering. This was not an issue she wanted to deal with today. "I…"

"We are, in this town, the paper synonymous with Superman. If somebody wants to read an exclusive about him, they buy the Daily Planet. Not the Post, the Ledger, and most certainly not the Metropolis Star!"

She laughed nervously, "You sound as if we own him! He's free to speak to whomever he wishes. Besides, he's given exclusives to plenty of other reporters."

"Like this?"

She had to admit, the level of detail within the article meant that it was no short interview. Despite the gravity of the subject matter there was a certain element of giddiness in the reporter's words, like she had interviewed her idol and transferred her wonderment onto the paper. Lois recoiled and offered her best defense, knowing how lame it sounded even to her own ears. "Contrary to popular belief I am not his press agent!"

"Oh yeah? Since when! Tell me why, after all these years, does he suddenly give exclusive interviews to our archrival?"

Lois was speechless. Blood rushed to her head and she swayed slightly on her feet, while Perry's gaze fell in the direction of Clark Kent, who was talking nervously to an over-animated Jimmy. The Chief stood which an uncharacteristic confusion in his eyes, trying to coalesce what happened this morning and what he heard the other night, and not making sense of either.

Lois grabbed onto the edges of the desk to steady herself. She was beginning to realize what "breaking up" with Superman really meant. For whatever reason, she hadn't foreseen this change in their working relationship, however much it made sense. Perry may have been feeling betrayed, but her feeling was much more attuned to ire. Superman had duped her out of a big story. And nobody scooped Lois Lane.

She fought the urge to look over at Clark and wondered if he was listening in on their conversation. While he made a sincere effort to respect her privacy, she knew how much of her life he was privy to, and how difficult it was to not be aware of her every moment. It was second nature to him, much like scanning her with his x-ray vision every time she coughed or sneezed. She caught him continuously fighting with himself over respecting her privacy and wanting to know she was safe.

The reality was that she didn't need Superman to make her a great reporter. Sure, her Pulitzer was for an article she wrote about him, and her name was tied to his the way no one else could claim. But people respected her work whether or not it was about the man of steel, and maybe loosening that bond was a good thing and a necessary step in her career. But she didn't think Perry would approve of her assessment of the situation.

Perry continued ranting, and as his words began melting together last night's dinner was quickly making its way up through her throat. She pressed her palm to her mouth and bent over, knowing there was no chance she'd make it to the bathroom. Suddenly pushing the desk chair away toward the window, she crouched onto the floor and grabbed the garbage can out from under the desk, her head just properly positioned over it as she vomited.

Perry stopped his tirade long enough to stare aghast at the sight of Lois conspicuously slumped underneath his desk. "Lois, are you all right?"

She grabbed her hair back away from her face. "Yes, I'm fine!" Her words sounded tinny as they echoed inside the garbage can. Outside the office multiple pairs of eyes stared curiously at the unfolding scene. The great Lois Lane had not only lost exclusivity on Superman, but she, in the eyes of her colleagues, had very ungraciously learned of her defeat. It was like giving jealous rivals rooting most for her failure front row seats to her humiliation. Hidden behind some of those stoic faces, she knew, was thinly veiled glee.

Perry held out the napkin that had been separating his doughnut from his papers. She graciously accepted it and wiped her mouth. Slowly, she picked herself up off the floor, pushing against the desk for support.

He gave her a moment to reclaim her dignity and said more softly, "Look, Lois. Why don't you take a few minutes to get cleaned up and we'll talk later."

She walked out of his office and avoided Clark's eyes, which she could feel on her back like two steely knives. "What the hell are you staring at!" she rattled off to her nosy co-workers, speaking more to him than them. Out of his office Perry called for a janitor to come take his trash away. She grabbed her purse from her desk and raced towards the bathroom, aware that Clark was following close behind.

"W-wait! Lois!"

She continued walking, not wanting to have the conversation in the hallway because, of course, to reveal what she was really wanted to say she'd have to talk in code, and she simply didn't have the energy for it right now. She hoped he'd take the hint. She knew he did, as the man he loved, but as the bumbling façade that masked that man she knew he wouldn't let it go. It wouldn't be in his character to know when to back off. But he caught up with her and gently but firmly pulled her to a stop.

They were standing in the middle of the hallway outside the entrance to the women's bathroom. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Clark," doing a poor job of hiding her irritation.

"B-but y-you fainted," he said. The bathroom door opened and Clark, in perfect line of sight, met eyes with a woman with her hands in her shirt, fixing herself in her bra. Making eye contact with her in the mirror, she turned around and mouthed the word _pervert_ as the door slammed closed. His face flushed, he pulled Lois around so his back was towards the door.

"I didn't faint. I'm fine. Look! See?" She held out her arms and willed him to scan her with his x-ray vision. "I'm fine that Superman gave a huge story to my archrival. I'm fine that he just fired me as his press agent and didn't bother telling me about it. Oh, yeah, Clark. I'm just fine!"

Ignoring her words, he bowed his head and began his slow, methodical scan, thankful that she allowed him to do so. But he'd barely begun when he was interrupted.

"Hey, Clark! The Chief wants to see you," Jimmy said, clearly happy to have made himself useful by passing on the news. But one look between the pair had him fidgeting with his yellow polka-dotted tie.

"Uh, thanks, Jimmy," Clark replied. He turned back toward Lois, but she had taken advantage of his distraction and disappeared into the bathroom. He focused his vision through the door and in that instant, the young woman whom he'd seen before exited, and their met eyes again.

He bowed his head and closed his eyes, deciding that he'd had enough x-ray vision for one day. He walked away.

* * *

She was still pissed. She couldn't help it. Lois Lane did not get scooped and feel fine about it. That's why it was so hard to look at Clark, who had stopped by her apartment tonight in an attempt to make peace with her. 

Sitting at the kitchen table, she stared at the red roses he'd just handed her at the door. They lay in a black china vase adorned with bright lavender petals, a gift, ironically, from Richard for her first birthday they celebrated together. She sat there, completely still, staring at him, with her hands crossed in front of her chest.

And then she burst out laughing, which was contagious because he started as well. "I'm still mad at you," Lois said, a tint of anger mixed in with her words. "You could have warned me."

"I didn't get the chance to see you before you started work this morning."

She thought about his words, what he had done, and how necessary it all was. Did she really expect life with Clark Kent to be simple? Staring at the vase, her mind drifted to that evening long ago with Richard. He had told her he loved her, blurted it out really, right after she had taken a mouthful of spaghetti. She stopped chewing upon his confession, startled as she was to hear the words yet still touched deeply. She remembered those awkward seconds of silence when she had to finish chewing and swallowing, and he waited patiently for her response. Those seconds lasted an eternity. But instead of answering him, she had started crying, and cried for nearly an hour afterwards. She didn't want him saying those words to her, knowing she couldn't say them in return.

She cleared her throat. "You know, the truth is I don't need Superman. I'm a damn good reporter and I'm widely respected by my peers and well liked by my readers. Quite honestly, I was getting bored with him. It's always the same. Saving airliners, rescuing people out of burning office buildings, pulling cats out of trees. Frankly I'm shocked that he still makes front-page news. You'd think people would be sick of hearing about him."

"Were you?" he said amusedly.

"Very much so," she replied. He looked at her longingly, his bright blue eyes highlighting the grin on his face. "We may have made peace tonight, but you are not out of the doghouse yet," she muttered. "Maybe you should try your charm on someone else tonight."

Lois always had a way of putting things that put him in his place. While he may have godly powers, there was no question who was the dominant force in their relationship. It was a high Clark knew she fed off of like a rabid dog.

Just then Jason walked into the room. Dressed in Spongebob pajamas, he held a small brown stuffed animal in one arm.

"Hey, sweetie. Come here, kiddo," Lois willed him to come to her outstretched arms. She picked him up and sat him down on her lap. "How would you," she poked a finger gently at his stomach, "like to go on a little adventure this weekend?"

"Really?" His enthusiasm caught on with the adults.

"Uh huh! Maybe if you ask Clark nicely he'll take you flying."

His face fell, and Clark's immediately followed.

"But I don't wanna…"

"Jason," she interrupted, her voice growing stern.

He looked reluctantly over at Clark, remembering his father's words and wondering, if Clark really wanted that badly to take him flying, he should let him, and he could say to his dad that he was nice to Clark.

But Clark saw a hint of excitement peak into those familiar blue eyes when Lois mentioned flying. He knew he had him. "Jason," he began, crouching down in front of the boy. "It'll be fun, I promise."

"Where would we go?" His words were so soft and tenuous.

"Anywhere you want," he said gently.

For a man with near-perfect memory recall, he was forgetting what predicament he put himself in the last time he uttered those words. She smiled at the recollection of her last evening with Superman. "You know, Clark. It might be best not to ask that of a five-year-old."

Clark blushed profusely. She was right, but surely Jason couldn't conjure up a crazy scenario of that magnitude. He dismissed her warning.

His statement, however, did intrigue the imagination of one person in the room. "Do you really mean we can go anywhere?"

"Yes," he smiled confidently.

"You promise?"

Something about the way he said the question set off warning bells, but he was too excited about the prospect of spending time with his son alone to heed them.

Jason jumped off his mother's lap and cupped his hands up against Clark's ear. Lois looked on steadfastly between her two boys. Jason began to glow, while Clark turned an uncanny shade of white, and she was quite certain she'd never seen that color on him before.

"Uh, Jason. I'm really not sure that's a good idea."

"But you promised!" He was upset, already formulating why grownups always promised one thing and did another.

Clark looked over to Lois for support.

At that moment, Superman's trademark grin transplanted itself onto Jason's face. She glowed with pride. "You promised," she said, imitating her son's voice.

He bowed his head, why did he allow his family to do this to him? "Uh, Lois, it's not that simple. Jason wants to go to…"

"Don't tell her!" He whined like it was the secret of the universe, and to a 5-year-old, it probably was.

Lois laughed hard, "I guess I'm not supposed to know."

"But Lois, you should know that because of what he's asking I wouldn't be around…"

"That's the idea, Clark," she said, getting up from the table.

"But I mean, I really won't be around. If something happens…" And that was the crux of the matter, really. He was afraid of something happening to her when he would be unable to help.

He was such a worrywart, sometimes she wanted to strangle him. "Nothing will happen, Clark. Just go and enjoy yourselves."

He looked back over at Jason, who looked at him expectantly. "Okay," he said, almost reluctantly. As the boy cried out in excitement, Clark knew that he was probably too young to realize what he was asking. He had just agreed to spend the weekend in a confined space with him, without any means of running away should he decide he wanted to. But in it Clark also sensed a golden opportunity to get to know his son. Despite the difficulty of pulling off his request, there was nothing at that moment that he wanted to do more than make his son happy.

Jason rushed into the kitchen, moving back and forth between the pantry and the refrigerator, trying to decide which one to open. He chose the fridge and found what he was looking for, a glass bottle of Coca-Cola. Shaking it, he tapped the bottle on the counter and opened it. Some of it splattered on his shirt.

"Jason! You know you're not allowed to have soda after dinner," Lois yelled, annoyed.

Her words didn't faze her. He reached up as far as he could and poured the contents of the bottle down the drain.

"Jason, what are you doing?"

He didn't answer her, but the happiness in his eyes was clearly evident. She didn't want to press. He ran to his room with the bottle in his hand.

Lois looked over at Clark who was staring back at her. She bit her tongue hard, not allowing the reporter in her to ask the forbidden question. He smiled and let out a shy, nervous laugh. She wasn't sure how, but she had the sense he had just scored a major victory.

* * *

At Metropolis State Prison, Bobby Knightly was escorted from the police van into the warden's office. He sat in his chair, playing with the handcuffs around his wrists, and whistled. 

TO BE CONTINUED

* * *

**A/N:** Liked it? Hated it? Let me know! 


	4. Mixed Messages

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to review the story. Your comments are very much appreciated!

**Chapter 4: Mixed Messages**

"Jason," her voice was firm yet polite, much like Clark's Superman persona she'd often heard on TV. Martha Kent looked at the items the boy just dumped into the shopping cart. Chicken nuggets, lollipops, animal crackers and Fruit Loops. Clark had asked her to take his son to the grocery store to get supplies for their trip while he made preparations back at the farm. Somehow, she didn't think this is what he had in mind.

Jason looked up at her with his baby blue eyes and she bit back her next words. What grandmother could resist? It wasn't often that she got to spend time alone with him and she'd be damned for not milking the moment for all it was worth. _He looked so much like her boy_.

By the front entrance a young, blonde-haired clerk had just turned the "Open" sign around that hung from the top of the glass door. Martha glanced at her watch. 11:00 p.m. In all her years she'd never been to the Smallville Super Mart this late. Heck, it was passed her bedtime.

_Crunch_. Martha looked over at Jason, whose white shirt was rapidly transforming into red before her eyes. In his hand he held what once resembled a tin can of SpaghettiOs. Unfazed, she took the can and placed it on top of the cart. She removed a handkerchief from her purse, wet a corner with her tongue and tried to wipe the thick, soupy sauce off his shirt.

Jason looked down at his shirt upset, "I'm sorry."

She eyed him sympathetically, "It's okay dear, no harm done." _Except that there was no way tomato sauce was coming out of that fabric_. She smiled, recalling a similar incident with Clark involving a glass pickle jar three aisles down in the condiments section. The boy's words and sad, befuddled frown momentarily transported her back twenty years to that day.

But unlike Clark, Jason was worried, like he'd readied himself to be scolded. "You're not going to tell Clark, are you?"

She wondered why he'd ask such a question. "No dear," she started pushing the cart down the aisle, "but I think you should. He'd want to know." She maneuvered the cart around a large stack of cereal boxes and headed towards the checkout line. Looking around, she realized that they were the only shoppers left in the store. The lone checkout clerk stood waiting for them, her bright, curly hair beautifully framing her oval-shaped face.

Sally Maier went to high school with Clark, and though never friends Martha always thought she'd be a nice girl for him. But in his absence she'd married a farmer's son across town. She'd worked at the Smallville Super Mart for several years now and was expecting her first child, her round belly just starting to show.

"Sally, I dropped this on the floor and it burst. Please add it to my bill." Martha said it so nonchalantly Jason looked up in surprise.

"But…" He was upset. Why was she lying for him? He wanted to tell the nice lady what happened. His teacher said it was very important to always tell the truth, yet his grandmother had just clearly lied.

"Oh it's no trouble, Mrs. Kent. It happens all the time." Fortunately, by the way the can had been crushed, it was impossible to decipher that small fingers caused the indentation marks.

Jason tugged at her skirt, his accident momentarily dismissed from his mind. "Can I have a chocolate bar?" It's funny how, despite his difficulties with Clark, the boy had no trouble embracing his grandmother.

"Oh, Jason! You eat that now and you'll never sleep tonight." But, she smiled mischievously, that wasn't her problem. "Okay, the little one, but we'll split it. And we have to finish it before we get home. I don't want Clark finding out that I spoiled you." Looking at the groceries on the conveyer, however, she suspected that to be a moot point.

His eyes lit up as he grabbed the chocolate bar and handed it to the store clerk. After Sally rang up the items, she helped Martha carry the groceries out to her truck.

"Thank you, Sally. You're a doll."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Kent. Good night!" Sally waved goodbye and went back inside the store, closing the door firmly and turning the latch. _Maybe, on second thought, Sally wouldn't have been a good match for Clark_. But never in all her years would she have thought Lois Lane might be the one for him either. Impulsive. Selfish. Smart. Strong-willed. Beautiful. Those are words she'd use to describe the woman that captured her son's heart. But none of those words mattered. All that mattered was that she was madly in love with Clark. Regardless, Martha had a five-year-old grandson and _no_ daughter-in-law, but that was an argument for another day.

As they drove away, Jason unwrapped the chocolate bar, broke off two pieces and gave one to Martha.

"So are you excited about the trip?" she asked.

"Uh huh," he replied as he swallowed a chocolate square.

She gripped the wheel tightly as she rounded a curve in the road. "Where are you going?"

"Mars!"

Years of broken pickle jars, heat-seared holes in walls and broken barn roofs prepared her for that answer. She would have been surprised had he said something mundane, like the beach. She doused her response with astonishment, for his sake. "My, that sounds like an adventure! More chocolate?"

He handed her another square.

She made a right turn onto the long, dirt driveway that led up to the farm. In a minute, the house became visible. The headlights flashed briefly upon a large, crystalline object some distance behind the barn. She shivered as she recalled the last time she saw such a contraption.

"Whoa, what's that?" he exclaimed with wonder.

Martha laughed as she slowed to a stop and put the truck in park. Jason had a ring of melted chocolate around his mouth. She reached inside her purse for a handkerchief but wasn't quick enough as he jumped out of the vehicle and raced towards the ship, a little skip in his stride.

Clark watched his son run towards him. Well, he ran more towards the ship than to him. But he refused to let that little fact disrupt his good mood. For the occasion, he'd worn jeans and a t-shirt, and left his glasses on his mother's kitchen table. He thought it a good first step to make Jason feel as comfortable as possible around him, that and to know that outside of the superhero suit he was just a man, like the person he called "dad."

The ship was majestically crafted of crystal, star-shaped, like the one that took him back to Krypton, but half the size. He utilized one of the few remaining crystals left in his possession to build it, one that he hadn't needed to use the last time he built a ship. He'd hidden them in the barn when he left, not knowing that if or when he returned they'd be the only remnants of his homeworld left in his possession.

"Is that a spaceship?"

Clark nodded. He watched Jason methodically circle the ship and followed his wide eyes as they scaled the tall columns of crystal that stretched towards the sky. The boy brushed his fingers gingerly against the smooth surface and jumped away, awed by the sensation.

Martha, with her slow, careful step, came up behind them holding the grocery bags in one hand and Jason's backpack in the other.

"Thank you so… much?" Clark began as he peered into the bags. Puzzled, he looked at Martha, who at the moment caught up with Jason and was wiping away the chocolate on his face.

"He's my grandson, Clark. It's my job to spoil him." Then, she added nonchalantly, "There's real food in there as well."

He looked into the bags again, "Where?"

"The PB&J." She removed a shirt from the boy's backpack and helped him put on a clean one.

Clark looked at her incredulously and shook his head. "You always made me eat green vegetables and fish."

She grinned. "And I distinctly remember you saying to me once that PB&J was real food." She kissed Clark. "You boys have a safe trip." She pulled Jason into a big hug and as he responded warmly, felt tears form in her eyes. While Clark was growing up, she hoped, yet didn't dare expect, that he would experience the happiness of loving a son as much as she did. Now she felt indebted to the woman who made that dream reality.

Martha walked back towards the house, and when they were alone, Clark gazed upon his son, trying to gauge his mood. "So, uh, you want to see inside?"

It was the right thing to say. The boy nodded profusely.

They entered through a small opening near the rear of the ship. Clark had to crouch slightly as he stepped inside. The interior was constructed entirely of thick, oblong beams of crystal, eerily resembling the design of New Krypton. Being a short-range ship, there was only one small room that served as the bridge. A long, low beam partially split the room in two, and in front of it laid a small control panel.

Jason dropped his backpack into the corner next to a set of sleeping bags and walked around, mesmerized.

"It's pretty late, Jason. Would you like to go to bed?"

"Nuh uh," came his soft, distracted reply through a stifled yawn.

Clark smiled, thinking what a silly question it was to ask of a child. He sat down in front of the console and called Jason over to sit down next to him. He pushed together two crystal levers and the ship shook slightly. From behind a transparent wall two large crystal pillars began to slide up and down. A few moments later, a soft rumble echoed from all sides as the ship began to rise steadily off the ground.

It took less than a minute to exit the Earth's atmosphere. The crystal pillars continued their rhythmic movement, more smoothly now that the ship had entered space. Clark focused his x-ray vision through the wall of the ship, watching the glowing green and blue sphere rapidly fade into the darkness of space. He asked Jason, "Would you like to see something neat?"

The boy nodded. Clark maneuvered the controls once again. The soft glow that emanated from the wide, stubby crystals that formed the ceiling began to darken, becoming almost completely transparent. Soon, darkness filled the ship and thousands of tiny white stars dotted the ceiling. It was the Kryptonian version of a campout in the woods, and the only things missing were the fire and marshmallows.

He slowed their acceleration, and both of them watched the Earth fade until it became indistinguishable from the stars.

In a sudden burst of energy Jason ran around the room. "This is so cool! I can't wait to tell the kids at school!" And he had the perfect opportunity to do so. Every Monday morning, his teacher, Miss Thomas, asked her students to stand up in front of class and give a brief account of what they did over the weekend. He was tired of saying that he didn't do anything fun. He did go with his mommy to the Daily Planet, but other kids talked about how their dads did fun stuff with them, like play outside or go to the playground. He hadn't done anything fun with his dad since he last took him up in his plane many months ago.

Clark set the coordinates to Mars, put the ship on autopilot and turned around in his seat. In trying to appease his son, he realized the mistake he made. "You can't tell anyone about this, Jason."

The boy slumped down in the corner and grabbed his knees to his chest, pouting. "But why?"

That question, in so many contexts, haunted his childhood for years. Why could he do so many amazing things no one else could? Why did his parents insist he hide them? Fortunately Jason wouldn't have to wonder like he did. He wouldn't have to be afraid or alone. But the answers, he also knew, didn't make the truth any easier to live with. He would never be human, and neither would Jason. On that front Clark knew his words would offer no comfort.

"Because, Jason, we're different. We're not like everybody else."

"But I don't want to be different! I want to be normal like mommy and the kids at school."

It was like talking to himself, so many years ago. "I know, Jason. I know. And if I could make it easier for you I would, but I can't."

Jason pouted, fighting back tears. "Everyone at school thinks I'm weird."

"I'm sure they don't think that."

"Yes, they do! Nobody likes me. But they think Superman's cool. If you came to my school and told them you're my friend then they would like me."

"I can't do that."

"But why not!"

"Because, Jason, no one can know of your connection to Superman. There are bad people out there who are looking for ways to hurt me. And the only way they can do that is to come after the people that I love. That's you and your mom."

"And grandma?"

Clark smiled, "Yes, grandma too. I will never allow anything bad to happen to any of you. I promise you that. But you can't tell anyone that you know Superman."

Jason looked away, not acknowledging him. "But that means that I have to lie."

He'd become so accustomed to his dual identity the word lie had taken on a subjective meaning. "You don't tell your friends everything about yourself, do you? "

The boy didn't respond.

"You're my son, Jason. And I know you're not old enough to fully understand what that means. But someday…"

"Yes I do!" Jason said defensively.

Clark smiled thinly and continued, "I think you already know that you're not like other boys. You can do things, amazing things, like Superman."

The boy looked at him with such sadness Clark was sure he'd break into tears. He rose out of his seat and sat down in front of him on the floor. He wasn't sure how much he should say at this point, or even how much he would understand. "Do you remember that day on the boat," he tried to speak his next words as delicately as possible, "when the bad man tried to hurt your mom?"

Jason turned pale, and his eyes widened in fear. Clark grabbed his shoulders firmly but gently, "It's okay Jason. Your mom told me what happened. It wasn't your fault." He didn't want to upset him, but he had to make his son understand, on some level, what was to come. "Has anything strange like that ever happened again?"

He was silent for a long minute before he spoke so softly Clark wasn't sure he said the words aloud, "I broke something today." Clark listened intently as the boy reiterated what happened at the Super Mart.

"It's okay, Jason. You didn't do anything wrong. You're just very strong, that's all. I can teach you to control your strength, so situations like tonight won't happen so much. Would you like that?"

"Yeah," Jason smiled softly, the relief evident in his voice.

"And do you understand why you can't tell anyone you can do these neat things?"

The boy hesitated, then nodded sadly.

Clark needed to emphasize the silver lining and fast, before his son broke into tears. "It's not all bad, you know."

"It's not?"

"Nope. You know how you're strong? That's not the only advantage you'll have when you grow up."

"You mean, I'm gonna be able to fly like you?"

Clark let out a quick laugh, "I don't know. But you'll be faster, stronger than anyone else. I can't tell you for certain what powers you'll inherit and to what extent. I wish I had more answers for you."

"The other day at school I saw something that no one else saw. Everyone said I was dumb. But it was there, I saw it!"

"You're not dumb, Jason, you just see better than anyone else."

"I told mommy about it but she just laughed at me," he said sadly.

The pain in his voice was like guilt-ridden nails being hammered into his flesh, and he was sorry all over again for leaving his son alone for so long. "Jason, mommy wasn't trying to be mean. She just doesn't understand what it's like to see like we do, that's all. But you know what? I see those things too. So when things like that happen I want you to tell me about them. Do we have a deal?"

Jason sat motionless, not answering. He was thinking about something else. "I'm scared."

"I understand. And you know what? I'm scared too."

"But you're Superman. You're not scared of anything."

Clark laughed. "That's not true. I'm scared, every day. I worry that something will happen to you or your mom. You guys mean more to me than anyone else in the universe."

Jason took in his words. Superman was scared! Somehow, that made him feel so much better.

"I will always be here for you, Jason. You're not alone."

In a flash, Jason had his arms around him, and Clark grabbed hold. Jason let out a long, soft cry. Finally, after so many months, he was on the receiving end of a father-son embrace. Clark held his son tightly for several minutes until Jason quieted down.

Tears flooded Clark's eyes, but he held it together and brushed his hand through his son's hair. "You, uh, hungry?"

Jason smiled and nodded.

Clark got up and brought out the grocery bags. There wasn't much by way of real food, but the chicken nuggets' box was soggy and the meat partially defrosted. He pulled out a paper plate and dumped the nuggets onto it. Then, using his heat vision, he systematically warmed each nugget one by one until a faint wisp of steam emanated from the chicken.

"Cool!" Jason exclaimed.

Clark laughed. Jason reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of ketchup, squeezing a large glob onto the plate, while Clark poured soda into two plastic Dixie cups. "Don't tell your mother," he said, remembering how Jason wasn't allowed soda after dinner. They both laughed.

As they sat on the floor and finished dinner, the console beeped. Clark went to see what the disturbance was about. He looked at the readings, entered some calculations and the ship shifted slightly. Looking up at the transparent ceiling, he pointed towards an object in the distance.

"Jason, look." To the human eye, there was nothing there. But using his telescopic vision, the boy zeroed in on the small object.

"What is it?"

"It's called a comet. It's a mixture of rock and ice."

"It's got a tail!"

"Yes, it does."

Lack of sleep was quickly becoming evident in the boy. "It's getting pretty late, Jason. You should get some sleep."

"But I don't wanna sleep."

"I know. But when you wake up tomorrow, we'll be in orbit around Mars. Besides, the sooner you get some sleep the quicker we'll get there."

"If I go to bed will you tell me a story?"

Clark was truly touched. "Sure, just put on your pajamas."

While Jason changed, Clark removed the sleeping bags and rolled them out side by side onto the floor. The boy slipped into the one closest to the wall and laid his head gently down on a pillow. Clark kissed him on the cheek, acutely aware that this was the first time he had ever tucked in his son. He settled into his own sleep sack.

Clark propped his head up on one hand and looked at Jason, who had his sleeping bag pulled up to his chin. "There once was a little boy who lived on…"

"What's the boy's name?"

"Kal-el."

"That's a funny name."

Clark laughed and began again. "There once was a little boy named Kal-el who lived on a planet far, far away. His parents…"

"What planet?"

"Krypton." He was starting to get the hang of this! "There once was a little boy named Kal-el who lived on a planet called Krypton. His parents, Jor-el and Lara, believed that something bad was going to happen. So they sent their only son, Kal-el…" As he continued his story, the boy looked at him entranced. Despite his young age, Clark was fairly certain that he understood he was talking about himself. After a few minutes the boy gently closed his eyes and fell asleep, his face bearing a grin that spread ear to ear.

Some hours later, Jason stirred in his sleeping bag, awakened by a faint beeping sound. Rubbing his eyes, he stared up at the stars and noticed a large red object. His voice groggy, he yelled, "We're here! We're here!" and jumped on top of Clark.

Startled, Clark acted reflexively, pushing the boy straight into the air to separate himself from the intruding mass.

Jason giggled. "Look!" He pointed to the red sphere.

His eyes adjusting to the bright shades of red the planet emitted, he turned Jason over and brought him down on his chest and wrapped him up in his arms. "You know what that is?"

"Mars!"

"That's right."

"It's so cool!" Jason remarked.

Clark got up and maneuvered the ship towards the surface, and a few minutes later they landed with a soft thud. The ship powered down, and the crystal pillars that had been working non-stop since their departure from Earth slowly came to a halt.

Jason bounced on the balls of his feet. "Can we go outside?"

Clark laughed, having anticipated his request. Last evening, he made a pit stop to the home of Admiral Cullen in Cape Canaveral. Clark knew him from an article he had written about his contributions to the space program shortly before his retirement last month. Tongue-tied, the admiral found it impossible to say no to Superman when he asked to borrow a couple of spacesuits. He didn't even flinch at his use of the word "two."

The suits required extensive modifications, including sizing down the one that would be Jason's. He also added several Kryptonian inspired devices of his own, including a self-contained air supply.

He helped Jason into his suit who, Clark noted, was still wearing his Spongebob pajamas. Clark opened the hatch and held his son's hand tightly as they stepped outside. The smooth sand slightly gave way underfoot and he walked around gingerly, carefully placing each foot down on the ground. Jason, however, had other plans. He grew accustomed to the lighter gravity almost immediately and started jumping into the air. Inwardly, Clark was thankful he took the time to install gravity stabilizers in their boots, otherwise Jason would be halfway to Jupiter by now.

After a few minutes, Jason lay flat on the ground. Small mounds of red dirt sprouted up around his limbs as he stretched out his arms and legs, creating a sand angel. It was a maneuver his dad had taught him last winter, and he only wished he could be there right now to see him. But if his dad couldn't come to Mars with him, he decided, he would bring a little something of Mars back to him. Opening his right suit pocket, he stuffed it with as much dirt as would fit, then moved over to a small crater where the sand was of a lighter hue. He stuffed the lighter shade sand into his left pocket, then giggled and looked up at Clark.

By now it was dusk, and Deimos and Phobos were white blips rising into the darkening sky. With great reluctance Clark ushered Jason back into the ship. He helped his son remove his suit, and mounds of sand poured out of the pockets. Jason pushed him away as he gathered the sand into separate piles on either side of his backpack.

Clark took a seat at the controls and fired up the engines, the soft rumble echoing once again as red sand billowed up all around them.

Once they exited Mars' atmosphere, Jason sat down next to Clark, studying the controls. "Can I try?"

"All you have to do is press these two sticks together," Clark said, gesturing towards the crystal levers, "and we go faster. Pull them apart and we go slower."

Jason pushed his hand away and grabbed hold of the controls. The ship lurched forward violently. "Oops," came the boy's soft remark which was quickly eclipsed by their joint laughter. Clark clapped his hand over the boy's and guided his hand over the controls so they slowed down.

"This is so cool! I can't wait to tell daddy! I can tell daddy about this, can't I?"

Clark didn't answer, but Jason was no longer paying any attention to him. He expected Jason would want to tell Richard about his trip. It's just, for whatever reason he couldn't quite explain, hearing him call Richard "daddy" hurt more than it ever had before.

After a few minutes, Jason's hand fell limp. Clark set the trajectory to Earth and put the ship back on autopilot. He picked up his son and placed him back in his sleeping bag. Dimming the lights, he settled into his own sleeping bag. Jason, still inside his own sack, swished himself across the floor so that he was lying closer to Clark.

Tears formed in Clark's eyes, brought upon by a surreal mixture of pain and joy at Jason's gesture. He recalled the five years he spent in utter solitude in lieu of moments like this one. Masked by the darkness, he allowed his tears flow freely.

TO BE CONTINUED

**A/N:** I know the science is a little fuzzy, sorry about that. Did I totally butcher the story with this chapter? Please let me know! In the next chapter, we'll find out what happened to Lois while the boys were away.


	5. Memories

**Chapter 5: Memories**

This wasn't how Lois Lane envisioned spending her Saturday night. She was supposed to be lying on the couch reading the latest true crime novel. That's what she'd been doing for the last half hour anyway, until a rush of nausea struck her and she'd been forced to keel over the toilet and hack into it.

Instead of a soft couch, hard tile pressed up against Lois' rear end, the coldness seeping through the thin fabric of her nightgown. She dimly recalled her college days when puking into a toilet was a more than rare occurrence, with a group of friends hovering over her laughing. Now she wondered what the hell was so funny about it.

She lifted her head up, pulling a stray hair back into the fist that held the rest atop her head, and looked over at her former refuge. On the coffee table sat her dog-eared book, and beside it an empty container of Kung Pao Shrimp holding a plastic fork. She'd ordered the special with two egg rolls and wonton soup, and ate it all in less than ten minutes. Oddly the mass of food did little to quench her hunger pang.

This was supposed to be a quiet, uneventful evening. As bad as it sounded, she was enjoying this little respite from her son. Clark and Jason left last night on their father-son trip, and that meant that no five-year-old was running around, slamming toy trucks into her feet as she prepared dinner or booming _vroom vroom_ at the top of his lungs while she nursed a headache. But at the same time, she felt lonelier than at any time in her life.

Grabbing a bundle of toilet paper she wiped the vomit from the edges of her lips, then flushed the toilet. It was the fourth time this week that she had puked. It was time to face the facts. In a daze she made her way to the bedroom and found her purse. She pulled out her date book, sat down on the bed and started to count. One week. Two weeks. Three weeks. Four weeks. Five weeks. Six…

She couldn't go further. Wasn't the pill supposed to have a 99 effectiveness rate? Surely she couldn't be in the one percent category.

But, of course, the 99 assumed your partner was human.

Besides, didn't having two backup methods move that percentage up to a nice round 100? It just wasn't possible.

She laughed at the absurdity of her thoughts. She'd been nauseous lately, but she'd been recovering from a nasty cold. It was just the last leg of the flu.

All she needed to feel better was a hot bath and a bottle of wine. She returned to the bathroom and turned on the tub faucet. As the water level rose, she opened the cabinet and removed a dusty bottle of lavender scented bath salts. A bubble bath was a remedy she'd used often in the past to feel better, usually after a bad breakup with a man preceded by a heated argument where said man told her there was something seriously wrong with her. It always did the trick.

She removed her clothing and threw it in a pile in the corner. She slipped on her bathrobe and shuffled her feet into a pair of slippers. Making her way to the kitchen, she opened the cabinet where she kept her wine collection. _Richard's wine collection_. He had been the wine connoisseur, coming home with his latest discovery on an almost weekly basis. A new bottle hadn't been added to the stash since he left.

Opening the freezer, she removed a pint of chocolate ice cream and tore off the lid. Holding the spoon between her teeth, she carried the ice cream in one hand and the wine bottle and glass in the other back to the bathroom.

The tub was nearly full. Shutting the water off, she slipped into the warm water and felt the bubbles caress her skin. She poured herself some wine and leaned back as she brought the glass to her lips. As the liquid grazed her tongue, her mind inadvertently pictured herself counting off the weeks in her date book. Rolling her eyes, she set the glass down and dug into the ice cream.

"I'm not pregnant," she said aloud. She wondered how many times she'd have to repeat the words to make herself believe them.

Lois wasn't afraid of being pregnant again. She could handle it. But she wasn't sure about Clark. After their tumultuous re-acquaintance eight months ago he'd asked her what her pregnancy with Jason was like. He painted on a brave face, but his enthusiasm failed miserably to mask the fear behind his eyes. What he was really asking was, "Did it hurt you?"

She didn't lie to him, exactly. _It wasn't easy_, she admitted. There were complications, as to be expected, but she glossed over them as though she were reading bullet points out of an article she'd just composed.

The truth: she'd spent the last month in bed with an ice pack on her forehead, with nurses hovering over her desperate to keep her temperature down and not knowing why they couldn't. But she left that part out.

Lois put down the empty ice cream container and reached for the remote control. A small TV perched on the ceiling in the far corner of the room flickered on. Flipping through the channels, she stopped when she saw a familiar flash of red and blue across the screen.

She thought she found the news, but there was no commentary, no anchorwoman poised in the middle of the screen. All that was visible was a red cape, fluttering in the breeze. The camera lingered on it for an inordinate amount of time, and it wasn't until the angle widened that she saw the face attached to the suit.

It wasn't Clark. A burly man with bulging muscles stood in the center of a dimly lit room, his hands on his hips. He was dressed like Superman, and despite herself she was quite impressed with the detail of his suit, right down to the curve of the letter "S". He was standing in front of a canopy bed, where red, transparent curtains flowed freely from the headboard and footboard poles. Upon it, a scantily clad female dressed in sexy red lace lingerie lay on her back, her legs slightly parted.

Then, the words _The Adventures of Superhunk: Part VI _flashed upon the screen in calligraphy-style letters. Lois' heart stopped beating. The decision to turn off the television misfired somewhere between her brain and index finger, and she sat completely still watching the scene play out before her.

The woman was a leggy brunette with curly hair, and Superman had just called her Louisa. She said something about dancing around each other for months and it was time they did something about it. Louisa had a pen and paper next to her on the bed, but Lois was quite sure she wouldn't be able to write given the length of her fingernails. The camera zoomed in towards the woman, who pushed her nightgown off of one shoulder. It was obvious Louisa was completely naked underneath. Then she muttered, "Take me, Super."

Superman, for his part, zipped over to the side of the bed and swooped her up in his arms, jumping up onto a poorly disguised wooden block behind the bed. They twirled in the air for a few moments mimicking what Lois thought must be flying. Suddenly, the woman grabbed the front of the man's suit and pulled it down.

"Oh, that is so fake! Don't you guys do your homework?" Lois muttered. In one swift movement the suit was down to his ankles. The very well endowed man reached for the woman's garment and did the same.

"My, you really are Super," Louisa said.

"Oh come on!" It was all wrong. His suit didn't come off like that! But she supposed that she was only one of two people on the planet who knew that. As for the other part… Lois could only smile. Drowning out what was unfolding on screen, she closed her eyes and reminisced about what really happened on their first night together. It'd been in her apartment, about a year after they first met. The sexual tension between them had been building for months, and they'd become quite deft at avoiding the subject.

Lois allowed herself to get lost in the moment. She reached into the soapy bath water and worked her hand slowly up past the soft skin of her thigh. Well, that solidified it. She couldn't be pregnant. She'd never been horny when she was carrying Jason, in fact, the very thought of sex had made her nauseous.

Somewhere in the recesses of her mind she registered that her cell phone was ringing. It eventually stopped, and a few moments later chirped, indicating she had a message. Lois' eyes fluttered open, just in time to see Superman hovering over Louisa on the bed. She settled back into her memory, momentarily forgetting the interruption.

Until the phone rang again. Lois did her best to ignore it, imagining Clark's strong body on top of her, his warm breath on her skin and hands working their way across her frame. But as the phone rang a third time the illusion shattered. She groaned, irritated, picking herself up out of the tub. As she put on her bathrobe the phone rang again, but this time it was her landline.

It stopped abruptly in the middle of the second ring. Lois cursed. She hit the power button on the remote and went to the door. As she turned the handle, she thought she heard something just outside the door. She froze, focusing her hearing on all the sounds in her apartment. An occasional car flew by on the street below. Her next door neighbors, two college boys, were laughing hysterically about something. But that was all.

Shaking her head, she pulled the door open a crack. At that instant all the lights in her apartment went dark. Looking out the window, she noticed other units in her building still had power. Then she watched in astonishment the slow turn of the doorknob. She grabbed a ceramic tissue holder and held it high over her head, staking a spot near the door.

Seconds passed. Nothing happened. Finally she reached towards the door handle, intending to pull it open quickly and startle whoever was on the other side.

But she wasn't quick enough. The bathroom door swung open, the force of which sent her careening backwards into the tub. The water splashed up all around her, leaving puddles all other the floor. The tissue holder shattered onto the tile, sending pieces ricocheting across the floor. She let out a loud scream as her back slammed into the side of the tub, her eyes darkening despite her efforts not to pass out.

A very angry Bobby Knightly stood above her wielding a shiny knife in one hand and a plastic phone cord in the other. Both had been his weapons of choice before he'd been caught by the police. What was he doing out of prison? In the shadows she could see his lips move, but couldn't hear what he was saying. Then, he lurched towards her. She tried to move her arms in front to protect her body, but the soaked robe impeded her movements. An unimaginable pain tore through her abdomen. Looking down, even in the darkness she could see her blood begin to cloud the water.

About a mile away, a string of police cars flew down the street towards her building, their sirens wailing in the night air. Lois watched Bobby raise the knife above his head, ready to make another pass. Immobilized, she managed to mumble the words "Superman, help me." She repeated them over and over, but he wasn't going to be coming tonight.

Bobby was amused. "I guess he's got better things to do tonight than to save you, bitch. I told you I'd make you pay for what you did to me." He made another swipe at Lois.

This wasn't the first time Lois called for Superman's help and he didn't come. On the edge of unconsciousness, her mind unwillingly began to wander back to that fateful night.

_Superman had been missing for three months. To take her mind off that fact, Lois coped the only way she knew how, by immersing herself completely in work. Lately she'd had more than one run-in with security, and she'd been escorted out of the building and threatened with trespassing until Perry intervened on her behalf._

_News, or lack thereof, about Superman was impossible to miss. A massive car pileup on a freeway in California, a train derailment in Madrid, with every disaster it felt like another nail was being hammered into his coffin. But was he dead? Lois' guess, based completely on her gut feeling, told her no._

_And yet there was no word of him anywhere. His name began falling off the front page, and the daily, "Where is he?" speculation article faded into the back pages. To the world, it was almost as if they'd begun to awake from an intense daze, barely able to recall what their dream had been about._

_It was a cool November night. Lois stood atop the roof of the Daily Planet, having sought refuge from the deluge of questions poised in her co-workers eyes that they now knew better than to ask. She inhaled two puffs of her cigarette before a wave of nausea struck. With her foot she grinded the unused portion into the ground. Lately she couldn't handle the nicotine, and she'd grown increasingly irritable as she lost the outlet for her frustration._

_Rain began to fall, drenching her clothes and flattening her hair to her head. She went back inside and rode the elevator down to the newsroom. But as the doors opened, she froze. She looked at her watch, 7 p.m. She had another three hours to go if she were to leave at her usual time, but at that moment she decided that she was just going to go home. She hit the elevator button and rode down to the basement where her old Ford was parked._

_As she pulled out of the parking deck, the tears started to fall._

_That's the one thing she hadn't done yet. She cursed, yelled, to anyone and anything, but not cried. Lois wasn't a weepy woman. But tonight, the floodgates opened and she couldn't stop them. The tears flowed down her cheeks just as the rain pelted her windshield. And a lone, soul-filled cry escaped her lips._

_Why? Where? They were questions she couldn't answer. And if there was anything that she hated more than crying for a man it was unanswered questions._

_Her whole body shook, rumbled underneath the pain being emitted. For the last several months she told herself that she was all right, she'd be okay if he never came back. But she wasn't. Inside her purse her cell phone rang, and as she reached inside it to silence the ring she took her eyes off the road._

_Her car swerved into the oncoming lane of traffic, sideswiping an SUV. As her car spun out, she instinctively called out his name._

_She wasn't sure how much time had passed when a man appeared at her door and flashed a light into her face. For one split second, her eyes met his again. She shut her eyes, relieved. "Superman!"_

_Her brief moment of perfect illusion was shattered by the man's voice. "No ma'am. My name is Richard White. But don't worry. You're going to be just fine."_

_The EMT at the scene told her how lucky she was to have escaped with minor cuts and bruises. But his instruments weren't calibrated properly to register the hole where her heart once beat. A few meters away Richard was talking to a police officer, but she could feel his eyes now and again wander over in her direction._

_He'd offered to drive her home, considering that her car was totaled. She accepted, turning down an offer from one of the police officers at the scene. It would give her a chance to observe this man that she'd mistaken for the love of her life. And she wasn't disappointed. This man, though more articulate in his words, struck within her a sense of familiarity, the shape of his face, the way he smiled. He enabled her accept her new reality. Superman wasn't coming home._

_Richard made small talk, broaching topics such as the weather, sports, flying, anything except what just happened to the both of them. His voice had a soothing effect on her, almost like an injection of morphine. In someone else's voice she'd asked him to drive her to the drug store. To her surprise he agreed. After making her purchase, she walked across the street to the gas station and locked herself in a dingy bathroom, and sat on a dirty toilet holding a pregnancy test, waiting dazedly for the verdict._

_Thirty minutes later, Richard was knocking on the door, asking her if she was okay. Wrapping the evidence in sheets of toilet paper, she buried the stick in the garbage can. "I'm okay," she called out. Wiping the tears away from her face, she promised herself that this would be the last time she'd ever cry for him._

_Richard drove her home, asking no questions about their extended pit stop. She thanked him kindly for the ride and went up the stairs to her apartment and slept._

_The next day, Perry formally introduced them to each other._

Lois opened her eyes, barely conscious. Bobby had disappeared, but there was a loud commotion at the front door and she could swear she heard her acne-ridden neighbor's voice. On the street below, wailing sirens came to a stop. She passed out.

TO BE CONTINUED


	6. The View from Afar

**A/N:** Fuzzy science alert is in effect for the next several chapters!

**Chapter 6: The View from Afar**

The mood at the Daily Planet was solemn. Each time a news flash came upon the TV screens announcing Bobby Knightly was still at large a silence would fall upon the newsroom. Those out in the field, whether friend or rival, held their ears open for any possible leads to his whereabouts and updates on Lois' condition. Because when one of their own went down in pursuit of the truth, they all took it personally.

In his office Perry White sat attuned to the same TV screens, still in disbelief over the events that transpired in the last several days. Although Lois was no longer marrying his nephew, his affection for her didn't end with their split, so the attack felt very much like an assault on his own family.

That's why for the last half hour he'd been on the phone with Richard, looking for reassurance that Jason was safe. No one had seen or heard from him or Clark in several days. But Richard assured him that if his son was with Clark, then he couldn't possibly be any safer than he was. Perry wished he could put as much faith in Clark as his nephew clearly did.

He hung up the phone and stared at the screen. He was still staring at it when Jimmy knocked on the door. "Excuse me, Mr. White. I'm sorry to interrupt…"

Without looking up he replied, "Then don't!"

Jimmy stood in the doorway with a stack of photos in his hand, debating whether or not to enter. He'd been at a building fire all morning and his clothes stank of smoke. He looked at the screen. "I'm sure she'll be okay."

The younger man's words broke him out of his trance, and he regained his composure. There was work to be done and headlines to compose. "What have you got for me?"

Jimmy laid out the photos on his desk, and the Chief thumbed through them. His eyes settled on a picture of a firefighter carrying out an infant. "I thought it was an office building that burned."

"It was, but there was a daycare center in the basement."

"Any casualties?"

"There were a few workers on the upper floors that suffered smoke inhalation, but no reports of any deaths."

The Chief flipped through the photos once more, making sure he'd seen them all. "Where are the pictures of Superman? You didn't leave before he showed up did you?" He liked the young man, but he was still green and needed to be guided.

"Of course not," he replied, a little too defensively. "He never showed up."

"What do you mean he never showed up? If this isn't a calling card for him I don't know what is."

Jimmy surmised, a little naively, "Maybe he just needed a vacation."

"Superman doesn't take vacations." After Perry said it, he realized he had no idea whether or not it was true. "That's the third day in a row no one's heard from him." Suddenly he had a thought. He picked up the phone and told to Alexa Huntington to write a page one brief about Superman's whereabouts the last few days.

"You put Alexa on that article?"

Admittedly, she wasn't the best choice, but Jimmy's gall for questioning his decision irritated him. "Well I'd put Clark on it except he's not here. He's never around when Lois is gone and I need him to write about…" He let his words fade with his thoughts.

"Strange, isn't it? Superman takes a few days off and everyone starts wondering where he is." Jimmy seemed to take something under consideration. "Chief, you don't think he left again, do you?"

Thinking about Lois lying in the hospital, he thought how odd it was that Superman would choose this weekend of all times to vanish. After hearing the two up on the rooftop the other night his suspicions were confirmed that their relationship was much more than a simple friendship. But where was he? Lost in thought, he didn't hear Jimmy's next comment and asked him to repeat it.

"It's too bad Clark's not here. I wish there was a way we could contact him."

Richard explained to him earlier that they had gone camping. What kind of man takes a five-year-old out in the woods with no means of contacting the real world? Despite that, picturing Clark in hiking boots pitching a tent made him laugh out loud. "I had no idea their relationship was getting that serious."

Jimmy smiled, pleased that he could provide a little insight into the pair's relationship that the Chief didn't know about. "Oh, it is. Clark is crazy about Lois."

Perry sneered, "But is Lois crazy about Clark?"

The question took Jimmy aback. "What do you mean?"

"Jimmy, I've known Lois a long time. In some ways I think of her as family. She isn't the kind of woman to go after a man like Clark. I can understand her leaving Richard for someone like Superman, but…"

"What are you saying, Chief?" Jimmy said defensively. "That Clark isn't good enough for Lois!"

"Of course that's not what I'm saying! Now I know Clark's your friend Jimmy, and I like him too, but…" He wanted to ask Jimmy to have a heart to heart with the man about Lois, and knock some sense into him, but decided that it wasn't an appropriate time to do so. He changed his strategy. "We all know that Superman cares for her. He should be here for her."

"And so should Clark," Jimmy added.

"It'd be nice if at least one of the men who claimed to care about her could be bothered to show up when she needed them."

That was a statement Jimmy couldn't argue with.

* * *

While Clark piloted the ship into the Earth's atmosphere, Jason sat on the floor beside him pouring piles of red Martian sand into a glass Coke bottle, interweaving light and dark waves like his dad taught him. His first thought had been to bring it to school for the next show-and-tell. But he decided against it after he realized he'd have to lie about where it came from. 

As the ship approached the surface it emitted a low rumble, but Clark focused his thoughts on another sound, one that filled him with happiness. He reached out with his super hearing, expecting to hear the faint _thud, thud, thud_ of Lois' heartbeat. But he heard… nothing. Panic set in before his mind engaged the obvious; having been further away from the yellow sun for the last several days, his powers weren't back to full capacity. Despite that fact, unease settled in his stomach.

The ship came to a halt in a cornfield, the darkness having masked its descent. Clark helped Jason with his backpack and he threw the sleeping bags onto his shoulder as the door thrust open. Walking slowly towards the house, Jason ran up ahead, jabbering excitedly about something he couldn't decipher. Meanwhile, Clark made a mental note to bury the ship in the morning when his strength returned. He briefly entertained the thought of hiding it instead, given he had so few crystals left in his possession. But the chances of its discovery and the implications that would follow it were too great and he dismissed the idea.

After spending several days in space, Clark was glad to have solid ground beneath his feet again. Despite the pleasure of spending time with his son, the last several hours had left him rather claustrophobic. Flashes of his previous venture into outer space and the consequences of it scurried through his mind. In some ways, he hoped he'd never have to go on such a trip again.

Over at the house, the porch light flickered on and a lone silhouette appeared in the shadows. Jason broke into a sprint when he saw it was Martha, and Clark knew his feeling of unease had a just cause. Earthquake? Hurricane? Or was it a train wreck? The boy wrapped his arms around her, oblivious to the tension in the older woman's face.

The smile she painted on her face for Jason's sake could not hide her pained expression, but she mustered a hello and tousled the boy's hair as she spoke. "Did you enjoy your trip?"

Jason broke into a rant about stars, dirt and comets, and Martha did her best to listen. "Jason, honey, why don't you go inside and unpack your things while I talk to Clark for a minute. Then you can tell me all about your trip."

As the boy ran inside, Martha sat down on the steps, and Clark sat beside her.

He knew instinctively that whatever disaster had happened it had hit much closer to home. He braced himself as he asked what happened.

She dropped her head to avoid his gaze, not wanting to see his face when she spoke, but thought better of it and met his eyes, "Lois is in the hospital. She's gravely injured."

The tumultuous flip-flops in his stomach made it difficult for him to assemble his next words. "What happened?"

The woman pursed her lips. "She was attacked in her apartment two nights ago. The police are saying that it was someone she wrote a story on once. I don't remember his name."

Clark shut his eyes. He knew this day would come. How could he have been so stupid to leave her alone? "Is she going to be all right?"

"She's in a coma. I don't know anything more than that. They wouldn't tell me because I'm not… family." Her voice broke with her final word. _Family_. When the nurse said it it felt like she herself had been stabbed.

Clark stood up, lifting his feet off the ground as though he were expecting to race into the sky and be at her bedside the very next minute. But gravity had other ideas. He started pacing back and forth across the porch. Leaning against the railing, he gripped it with frustration. "I can't do this. I can't stay here and do nothing!"

"The last flight out of Smallville Airport left an hour ago. You could take the truck."

Martha was just trying to be helpful, but he knew full well that driving there would be futile. By the time they hit the interstate it would be early morning, and by then his powers would begin to regenerate. That was assuming, of course, that the old truck could make it that far. He knew his only option was to wait.

He stood frozen, not wanting to look at Jason but seeing him through the screen door happily untying his shoes. While Martha distracted the boy, Clark went inside and called the hospital, keeping his voice low as he asked for more information about Lois' condition. But they would tell him no more than they told his mother.

He debated whether or not to tell Jason right away, or to wait until morning when he had the means to transport them back to Metropolis. Deciding on the latter, he tucked Jason into his old bed and said goodnight. His mother patted him on the shoulder and then retired to her bedroom upstairs.

His body was shutting down, but with his mind still reeling he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. Agony and guilt churned inside him, but he was too numb to move. He'd never felt so helpless.

He turned on the TV and caught excerpts of late night comedians and a low budget movie. He flipped back and forth between the stations waiting for a news report. Laughing faces made his anxiety all that more difficult to contain, until finally, he caught a taped newscast.

It was from the 11:00 p.m. hour, and the reporters provided few details. The story had already been relegated to after the first commercial break, and when it aired the ten seconds in which they spoke of the incident provided no new information other than that Bobby Knightly was still at large. Ten seconds. It was hurtful that someone he loved could be so neatly packaged and dismissed in such a short time.

Why had he been so foolish to leave her alone? Danger stuck to her like a second skin, he knew that better than anyone. He always feared that Lois would start taking more risks after he entered her life. But a part of him knew better, that Lois would take risks regardless of whether he'd be around to save her. But the knowledge of it left little comfort.

The sleep he'd been evading eventually overcame his exhausted body, and he fell asleep on the living room couch.

* * *

At Metropolis Hospital, two armed police guards stood watch outside Lois' room. Inside, she lay unconscious as machines measuring her vital signs beeped at prescribed intervals. A lone nurse, Gillian Platley, showed her badge at the door and entered to check on the patient. She moved about the room, checking monitors and making notations on her chart. 

A man in his mid fifties, slightly balding with plastic frame glasses, walked into the room a few minutes later. Dr. Hubert Stein was a veteran of Metropolis Hospital, having been there for nearly twenty years. To him it was like a second home, even more so after he'd caught his now ex-wife getting it on with a resident after walking into the wrong patient room. "Any change?"

Gillian shook her head silently, and the short blonde hair tucked neatly inside her white cap fluttered slightly.

Dr. Stein was deeply conscious of the star status of his patient. He'd treated other high profile persons in his days, most recently the quarterback of the Metropolis Tigers after he was sacked during a playoff game. "Her stab wound was treated and cleaned. I'm concerned that she hasn't regained consciousness."

The nurse nodded at him confidently, "She's a strong one, I think she'll pull through."

Dr. Stein was in deep thought. "I hope so, for her sake. She's pregnant."

"About two months. They're a lucky pair, that stab wound was deep. What did you do?"

He shook his head, looking puzzled. "Nothing. I took her off medication. As soon as her temperature started dropping she started having complications. Medically it doesn't make any sense."

The nurse lifted a gauge up to the light. "Her temperature's still dangerously high."

The doctor flipped through his chart. "Whatever happened, that baby seems to have its own ideas about how to help itself."

An eruption of laughter interrupted their conversation as it drifted through the door. The stern voice of one of the security guards immediately followed.

Dr. Stein pointed towards the door angrily, thinking how much things had changed from when he was young. "What's that all about?"

The nurse smiled shyly, almost ashamed for knowing the answer to his question. "It's Lois Lane. People are hoping for a glimpse of Superman when he shows up."

His eyes could not hide his shock, "And they think he's going to come?"

"Of course."

He rolled his eyes. "Unbelievable." Was he getting old? Was there still a concept called privacy in this world? Angrily, he tucked the chart underneath his arm and threw open the door. A small crowd of about six or seven female staffers stood on the other side. They went silent when they saw his angry face.

"Is this a peep show or is it a hospital?" The group immediately looked away, unable to meet his cold glare. "Ladies, you have better things to do. Behave like professionals."

The crowd immediately dispersed, the guilt evident in their slumped shoulders. Afterwards, he said to the security guards, "From this moment on, only Gillian and I are to be allowed in this room. If anyone else tries to enter tell them they have to clear it with me." He'd be damned if he allowed one of his patients to be treated like some spectacle, especially when her condition was so critical.

His thoughts were still lost with his patient's conundrum as he moved on with his rounds. As he walked away he asked Gillian, "Do you really believe those rumors that Lois Lane is Superman's girlfriend?"

The nurse seemed to genuinely consider his question. "It's fun to pretend that a mortal woman somehow snared a god. But do I believe it? Only when I'm in need to believe in a fairy tale."

* * *

The muffled sound of his son talking in his sleep awoke Clark on the couch. Although it was still dark outside he already felt much stronger than the night before, the sun's rays had been working overtime on him. 

He slipped outside and grabbed a shovel from the barn. Looking at the ship now, he questioned why he agreed to the trip with Jason in the first place. He knew better. He should have chosen a normal destination, something Jason could talk about with his friends and teacher at school. But he just had to show off, didn't he? If his son wanted to see red sand, why didn't he just take him to the Australian Outback? Then he would have been around to save Lois.

He watched the sun slowly peak above the horizon and felt the warm rays hit his skin. It felt like betrayal. Here it was shining brightly as though it were just another ordinary day. He leaped into the air about ten feet and quickly crashed back down to the ground. Flying was still out of the question.

He tried to focus on the immediate task at hand. He started digging, and with his less than super speed it took him over an hour to bury the ship. As he shoveled the last few piles of dirt on top his son greeted him.

He tried to reciprocate the boy's enthusiastic "Good morning!" but couldn't. And he couldn't wait any longer to tell him the truth. "Jason, there's something I need to tell you." He kneeled down in front of him so that he was at eye level with the boy and explained the situation.

His eyes immediately filled up with tears. "But she's going to be okay, right?"

"I hope so. But that's why we need to head back to Metropolis very soon. We need to see her and make sure she knows we're there for her so she can get better."

"Is she in the place you were in when you got sick?"

"Yes, the hospital." Clark responded.

Jason hugged Clark as tears spilled onto his dirty white t-shirt. He returned the boy's embrace, fighting back his own tears. He looked up and saw Martha walking towards them. She said nothing, just wrapped her arms around the pair. _Who says that they weren't a family?_

A few minutes later they said goodbye to Martha, and Clark picked up his son and flew away, now certain that he would not be falling from the sky. Normally Jason would play "Catch that Cloud" as they flew through the sky, but this time, the boy's arms gripped Clark firmly and remained like that all the way back to Metropolis.

TO BE CONTINUED


	7. Talking with Hands Tied Behind Your Back

**Chapter 7: Talking with Your Hands Tied Behind Your Back**

Superman and Jason landed near Metropolis Hospital behind a row of parked ambulances. A small congregation of EMTs huddled in a circle sipping hot mugs of coffee, unaware that the gust of wind that ruffled their hair was actually the man of steel. In a flash he changed into a taupe suit while Jason slung his backpack over his shoulder.

Clark led him around the corner to the front entrance. Once inside, they walked up to the counter and Clark asked for Lois' room. The sterile white walls and colorless paintings reminded him of his own time spent here, and in a fleeting moment wondered if when he was unconscious he'd been brought down this very hallway.

"I'm sorry sir, but I can't let you in." The young nurse responded, pulling apart her sesame seed bagel into bite-size pieces. "Security is tight around her room. No visitors. Doctor's orders."

"But this is her…" Clark started, pointing to Jason.

"Look, mister. I already kicked one person out of this hospital this morning for being fresh with me. Don't make yourself be the second."

Clark reeled back from her hostile attitude, prepared to fight back but knowing it was futile. The nurse had already turned back to her computer screen. He took a long look around the reception area, focusing his vision through the thick hospital walls searching for Lois. His eyes settled on a small room towards the rear of the building. Sure enough, two armed security guards stood in the doorway. "Come on, Jason."

The boy followed him out back to the parking lot. The EMTs seen earlier were now on the move. Two jumped into an ambulance, hitting the sirens as they sped down the road. Clark scanned in the direction they were headed and found a multi-car accident on the highway about five miles away. He was relieved to find all passengers standing beside the road with mere cuts and bruises, nothing that would require his attention.

Clark transformed back into his famous suit and darted into the air. He hovered about for a moment, scanning the section of building in which he'd earlier found Lois, until his eyes settled on her unmoving form.

With Jason in tow, he flew to the window and peered inside. A lone doctor was at Lois' bedside checking her pulse. He'd not prepared himself for what he'd see. Her face was bruised, half of which was wrapped in a white bandage covering a gash along her cheek. Another bandage was around her abdomen where the knife had pierced her skin. But most heart wrenching was her tranquil face that revealed nothing of the turmoil happening inside her body.

He debated whether to wait for the doctor to leave, seeing as how he'd like to avoid any speculation as to why he was there. But it would not be fair to Jason. He pushed his fingertips into the windowsill, feeling the resistance of a lock.

Dr. Stein immediately turned his head towards the door when he heard the knock, but quickly realized something was amiss when he walked towards it and the noise came again behind him. Through the window he saw Superman suspended in the air on the other side.

Superman waved a shy hello, but it did little to erase the doctor's shocked expression. He walked to the window and slid it open, clearing his throat as he asked, he thought quite dumbly, "Superman?"

Immediately Jason climbed through the window frame and hopped onto the floor. The blunt hit knocked the doctor off balance, his mind barely registering the shimmer the boy made as he sped to his mother's side.

"Mommy?" he said in a high-pitched cry. He climbed onto the bed and sat on his knees, nudging his mother softly. "Mommy?" he repeated, his frustration growing with each refrain when she didn't answer.

Dr. Stein looked back at Superman, who was still hovering outside the window, and back at Jason, before regaining his composure. He walked over to the boy and gently pulled him off his mother, sitting him down on a stool next to the bed. "Your mom needs to rest," he said in a gentle, well-rehearsed tone.

He turned back around to Superman, studying his hovering form. He'd never seen him before in the flesh. He hadn't been at the hospital the day they brought him in, nor had he ever been in need of his rescue. Come to think of it, he wasn't his biggest fan. He was too acutely aware that others in the city had come to rely on him to bust them out of any sort of predicament, so in some ways, however irrational it was to blame him, it made his job harder. "I assume you've got an explanation for this intrusion?"

Dumbstruck, he could only shake his head. "They wouldn't let him in to see her," he said, glancing over at Jason.

The doctor pushed his glasses up on his nose. "And you don't think there was a reason why?" he responded, unable to hide his irritation. "You think because you're Superman the rules don't apply to you?"

"I'm sorry." And he truly was. He couldn't recall ever being chastised like this when in costume. Hearing people yell and complain was nothing new, but none of them had ever spoken with such authority. "How is she?"

"In serious but stable condition. She'll need to be closely monitored for the next few days. She's not out of the woods yet." Dr. Stein caught the raw emotion on the superhero's face and realized he was going to have to tread lightly with him. His transparent emotion caught him off guard; this wasn't a side of him he'd ever heard about in the press, or even in the gossip he'd had the displeasure of hearing from time to time. Why was he always privy to secrets that he'd never wanted to know anything about? "Are you coming in or are you going to stay out there forever?"

"I don't fit, I'll break the frame."

Looking at the proportions of both objects the doctor silently agreed. "And if you come in through that door this place will become a media circus, and I can't allow that," the doctor said as he pointed behind him. "I can't stop you of course, but please understand that my only concern is for Ms. Lane's health."

Superman nodded, understanding.

"Well then, now that you're here I suppose I should ask you the big question." He eyed the boy who was engrossed with his mother and walked to the window so that the men were standing face to face. In a low whisper he asked, "Are you the child's father?"

Shock briefly delayed his retort, "What?" He glued his eyes to the doctor's, not daring to look over at Jason. _How could he know?_

But if Dr. Stein saw anything amiss in his reaction, he didn't show it. "I suppose you think it's none of my business, but the health of my patient is at stake here and frankly, there are some strange things happening that I can't explain. It could adversely effect how I treat her if I don't have all the facts."

Clark's mind reeled, what did Jason have to do with Lois' health?

Dr. Stein was no dummy. He'd seen that look on many a man's face before. It was one area where even the brightest men habitually failed to connect the dots. That's why he wasn't surprised by his reaction when he spelled it out for him, "She's pregnant, Superman."

"What?" he repeated, his mind failing to conjure up any other word. Looking over at Lois' sleeping form, he scanned her, quickly confirming the doctor's revelation. He gripped the window frame as his body slammed into it, sending a wave of brick dust to the ground.

Professional decorum prevented the doctor from rolling his eyes. "I'll take that as a yes." He picked his chart off the table and flipped through it, making a notation. "Now there are a few questions I need to ask you, preferably not through a window. You think you can come inside and sit down for this part? I have a private office in the east wing. Meet me there in say, half an hour?"

Superman nodded.

"And I'll leave the window open."

During their conversation Jason had left his mother's side and was now next to the doctor. He looked up at him curiously, but the soft, scared expression he'd had on earlier was now unreadable. Instinctively, Dr. Stein lifted him up and handed him through the window to Superman. The boy resisted Superman's grip, and tried to wiggle his way free despite being hundreds of feet off the ground.

Shaking his head, Dr. Stein finished his work with Lois and left the room. He passed by Nurse Gillian and couldn't resist a chuckle when he saw her. She looked up inquisitively, but the doctor was tightlipped and went about his way. _So who believes in fairy tales now?_ _He wanted to call out_. Why did he always get the weird cases? Man, he needed a cigarette.

As Superman flew away he heard a familiar voice on the street below. Back at the front entrance, a security guard was jostling an irate Perry White. "This is the second time we've kicked you out this morning, sir. The third time will land you in the slammer."

Perry pushed the guard away and was returning a quip equally obnoxious when he saw Clark and Jason rush up beside him.

"Clark! Where the hell have you been?" Perry berated, but his demeanor softened as Jason hugged him. "Have you seen her? This asshole," he pointed to the armed police officer, "won't let me in."

Before he could respond, the glass doors parted and Dr. Stein stepped outside. He lit a cigarette and flicked out the match. He walked right into the middle of a small crowd and into the path of Clark, who looked back at him astonished. To break the tension he laughed nervously, "Yeah, I know. A doctor who smokes, sue me."

But as he said it he noticed the child beside the man. Were it not for the boy, he doubted very much he'd given Clark another thought.

That's when he took note of Clark's appearance. His outdated suit was an eyesore, but his expression, so solemn and helpless, was that of a man not used to being so. He looked _so_ familiar. _Could it be_?

Clark watched helplessly as the doctor put two and two together. He began jabbering to Perry about his camping trip, why he was so late getting back and how upset he was to hear about Lois. He stuttered as he explained how a forest service agent had to rescue him when he got lost in the woods, using his hands wildly to demonstrate how the helicopter swooped him off the ground. To top off his shenanigan, he tripped over his own feet as he walked, not once, but twice.

His demonstration would have thrown the doctor off track, Clark believed, had it not been for Jason's outburst.

The boy had been silently boiling ever since their visit with Lois. Clark tried to talk to him but he closed up, refusing to speak. Now as Jason released his pent up anger, he could do nothing but watch as the progress he'd made with his son in the last few days vanished. "I hate you! I hate you! You said you'd never let anything bad happen to her. You promised! You're a liar!"

Jason ran into Perry's arms, and he picked him up and hugged him tightly as the boy started weeping. Perry looked at Clark, shocked into silence.

The doctor chimed into the increasingly awkward conversation. "Well, I see you've found someone to watch the boy. That will give us a chance to talk."

Perry stared at the doctor, then back at Clark. "Is this her doctor? You got to see her, Clark? Why didn't you say so? How is she?"

But before Clark could respond, the doctor did so for him. "Yes, uh, Clark and I had a little chat," his voice inflected at the use of his name, hearing its strange sound roll off his tongue. "In fact, we need to talk some more. Why don't you come into my office?" The doctor grabbed his arm and led him back towards the door, calling back to Perry, "I'm sure Clark will fill you in on all the details later."

Dr. Stein pushed Clark inside, ignoring his high-pitched protests. As the walked down the hallway he couldn't resist asking in a low voice, "You don't walk around like that everyday, do you? I mean, all you did was throw on a pair of glasses."

Clark looked at him in unguarded horror. "I'm sorry, doctor. I think you have me mistaken for someone else."

But Dr. Stein had it all figured out. "Yeah, whatever."

As they walked the rest of the way in silence, Clark let the realization of what just occurred sink in. Alone, he never had to work hard to keep his secret. But Lois and Jason had changed all that. They were a crack in his façade that that grown more alarmingly transparent. They were, in essence, a liability, and denying it would not make it any less true. And soon, if Lois survived, there would be a third person to worry about. Through the craziness of the last hour he hadn't had time to think about it. He was going to be a _father_ again. This time, if given the chance, he'd be there from the beginning, and do it right.

Dr. Stein's office was cramped and cluttered, but not in any way messy. Files were strewn about his desk and across the floor in neat piles. His file cabinet was overstuffed, and he'd been asking for a new one for the last six months to no avail. After clearing off the guest chair Clark sat down, preparing himself for the conversation to come.

The doctor removed his lab coat and rolled up his shirtsleeves. "Seeing you with Ms. Lane's son just now, I'm going to assume you're a, uh, friend of Superman's? Is that correct?"

Clark wondered where this was going and replied, "Yes, I am actually."

"Good. Then I don't think he'd mind me talking to you about this, do you?" Not waiting for a response, he pulled up the blinds and opened the window. "I'm an honest man, Super… uh, Clark. All that matters to me is my patient, not tabloids or unwarranted speculation. Frankly I don't care what Superman does in his personal life, nor have I ever stopped long enough to even contemplate him having one. That said, I need him to be honest with me. Lois' condition is serious. Her temperature is abnormally high and if we can't get it down she's going to die." Seeing his reaction wiped away any lingering doubt as to his identity. "But the problem is, if her temperature stabilizes the child's condition worsens. It's like what one needs to live the other can't tolerate. Are you following me so far?"

Clark shut his eyes, absorbing what the doctor was saying. It wasn't the stab wound that was killing her. If it had only been that she would already be in recovery. It was him. He was the cause of her suffering. If he had only just stayed away, listened to what his father told him about putting one person above the rest. He was selfish, and now it was going to get the woman he loved killed.

"I read that, uh, Superman gets his strength from the sun. It's his healing power. I believe that the child is seeking out that energy instinctively."

Dr. Stein took his words under consideration. "I see." An idea was churning in his head. "You don't suppose Superman has any, uh, technology that would be helpful to us in this situation?"

"I don't think so, but I'll ask him." But it was a futile request. He'd ask his father, but he'd lost contact with him, Lex Luthor made sure of that. He also had the feeling that even if he could ask, his father wouldn't know how to help an Earth female carrying a half Kryptonian child.

"Thank you. And please know that I'll do everything I can to see that she gets better. You have my word."

A woman's voice over the intercom called for Dr. Stein. "I have to go. I'll put you and her son on the safe list at the main desk, so that you can see her when you like and I think it's safe to do so."

Shortly thereafter he left Clark alone in his office, and a cold hard realization swept over him. There was nothing he could do for Lois. Her fate was in someone else's hands.

As he got up to leave, his thoughts wandered to another reality he'd not yet considered. Bobby Knightly was still at large, and his M.O. was not to give up until the object of his fixation was dead. But where to begin looking?

Once in the air he worked out his action plan. Since Lois was the expert on Knightly, he'd have to become one too, and the best place to start was to look through all the articles and notes she'd written about the case. He headed to the Daily Planet.

Back at the hospital, a young janitor wearing a blue baseball cap and sunglasses was pushing around a wheeled garbage can. He picked up a broom and started sweeping, timing his strokes to the rhythm of the song he was whistling.

* * *

**A/N:** Thoughts? Comments? Reviews are appreciated! 


	8. Awakening

**Chapter 8: Awakening**

If Clark had been paying attention, he'd register his colleagues' curious stares as they rode the crowded elevator up to the newsroom. Some peered over open newspapers, while others stole glances as they sipped coffee out of hot Styrofoam cups. After all, it was a situation that had no precedent. Typically they registered his existence only as the presence of mass occupying a space, unless of course he tripped over his own feet or stuttered his way through an inane apology. But now, that mass had a name, and a story.

As the doors parted Clark darted out as though he were a man late for a meeting on which his future precariously depended. His movements were purposeful and fluid as he walked into the newsroom and sat down at Lois' desk. Stacks of folders in various shades of mud brown and olive green were sprawled out in front of him. And underneath such a file he discovered a brown-speckled banana long forgotten by its owner, a testament to the time passed since Lois had been there.

Using his x-ray vision, he found her case notes for the Knightly murders tucked neatly away in the bottom drawer, already filed away with other solved cases. He pulled out the thick folder and a photograph slipped out, which fluttered briefly in the air before hitting the floor.

It was of her, Jason and Richard, taken not much more than a year ago. Her face bore a wide, mischievous grin, and he duly noted how man and boy mirrored her reaction as though they were her reflection. Why did she keep it? Maybe she filed it away like she did her case notes, a testament to an era now concluded. Or maybe, Clark surmised, it served as a reminder of what she'd given up to be with him. _Her one chance at a normal, happy family_.

But he wasn't going to think about that right now. He flipped through the papers, his thoughts in battle over restraining his speed to not arouse suspicions and not giving a damn if anyone noticed. That's why when he felt the light pressure of a hand on his shoulder he involuntarily jumped.

"Clark."

Were it not for the inflection in his voice, Clark would not have recognized it was Perry, for his words were spoken with a delicateness of which no one would subscribe to him. "What are you doing here?"

Not looking up, Clark progressed rapidly through the papers, desperate to find some clue that would lead him to Knightly. More importantly, he needed to concentrate on something other than Lois' stationary form if he was going to get through the day.

Perry took his brush-off in classic Perry style; he turned it into an invitation. He wheeled a chair over from an adjacent desk and sat down next to him, and Clark involuntarily tuned into the man's slow, steady heartbeat. He'd noticed it was always so, even when he'd be on one of his famous tirades about a burgeoning story or someone's royal screw-up of one.

A hand slapped hard on top of the paper stack, its brute force startled Clark as though he'd been bludgeoned with a kryptonite club. He looked up winded as Perry spoke. "Let the police handle this. You should be back at the hospital."

"I can't." _I can do anything but that. _

Unsurprised, Perry twisted around in his chair and continued in a low, soothing voice, one that Clark only noticed him use when talking to Jason. "Besides, you can bet Superman is hot on his trail. And if you can't believe in Superman, who can you believe in?"

Clark gave him a sad, knowing stare. "But Superman has no idea where he is either," he said softly.

The conversation was on a collision course with a brick wall, but just whose head was set to smash into it first was anyone's guess. Perry glanced over at the young boy in his office, his presence obscured by the black leather office chair in which he sat facing the window. "Clark, don't take this the wrong way. But I think it might be a good idea if Jason stays with me for a few days. It's no trouble. Besides, it could give you time…"

"I can't allow that, it's too dangerous."

Something in the way he said it made Perry catch his breath. He couldn't put his finger on what was different about it. "What do you mean?"

"I was just reading through Lois' files. Knightly's M.O., he taunts the families of his victims after he kills them. His last victim had a twelve-year-old daughter that he'd send images to over her cell phone. I can't risk putting Jason into any sort of danger."

"Then I'll ask he be placed under police protection. I'm sure…"

_So they can watch him push a door off a police car when he gets scared_? "No, he stays with me."

There it was again, and this time Perry had it figured out. When Clark spoke his voice dropped an octave. He sounded… authoritative. Perry wondered if he was seeing the Clark that only Lois saw. "Clark, listen to yourself. You're not Superman. You can't protect him from this madman. He'll be safe with the police. Let them do their jobs."

Clark glared at the older man, biting back words he knew would be careless and dangerous. He focused his thoughts on Lois and his wound up tension began to unfurl.

Perry, for his part, sat silent as he studied his subordinate. This wasn't the man he was used to seeing every day, the one who stammered through every sentence and was the butt of office jokes from people who actually noticed him. It's as though he'd split in two, a meek, mild-mannered man and this entirely new assertive individual. The latter man, Perry quickly concluded, he liked _a lot_.

A soft, pleading voice from behind them broke the tension. "I wanna stay with Clark," Jason said softly. He looked apprehensively at Clark as he stood next to his uncle cuddling a small, ragged teddy bear that was missing an eye.

The sorrow in the boy's words cut through Clark's defenses. "Come here, Jason," he said quietly. With no hesitation the boy collapsed in his arms and began to wail. Clark held him tightly.

The boy's sobs grew louder, and with each rendition a few more pairs of eyes wandered their way. For once, Clark was grateful when Perry loudly rebuked them, a rare moment when he didn't mind the violent echo through his very sensitive ears.

Their moment of feigned privacy restored, father and son held each other close, until the boy calmed down and pulled slightly away.

Watching the pair, Perry felt jealousy surge through him on behalf of his nephew, and wondered silently if he was going to be shut out of Jason's life as Richard had. When he'd spoken with him the other day, he sensed Richard was starting to back away. Perry had bitterly told him none of it would have happened had he not gone to London. It was like he was asking himself to be replaced. But then he'd said something curiously about having himself been the replacement, and Perry hadn't really thought about what he meant by that until now.

Of course, Perry knew that Richard wasn't Jason's biological father. Too many circumstances didn't add up, most obviously the timing, but to the casual observer it was a fact easily overlooked. It had been a lie of assumption, and stupidly Perry had played along with it. Of course, he had his own idea as to who the father was.

Something inside the veteran reporter told him he needed to leave it alone, that it was one story best left uncovered. Frankly, he didn't want to know, because he was fairly certain he'd run amuck of the oath he swore the day he became a reporter. Instead, his focus shifted between Jason and Clark, both extremely worried. Funny, he'd never noticed the physical resemblance between them before. _If he'd just take off those glasses I'd have a better look_. But as Perry started to speak Clark barreled to his feet.

Clark's face was pale, his attention deeply focused elsewhere. His thoughts were back in the hospital room where Lois lay silent. _Something was very, very wrong_.

"I need to take you up on your offer. Don't let Jason out of your sight," Clark called out, and in that instant disappeared down the hallway. For Perry's part, he breathed a sigh of relief. _There's hope after all_.

Clark flew up the elevator shaft and seconds later was soaring above the city, moving as quickly as he could to the hospital. He burst through Lois' window, simultaneously shattering glass and incinerating rows of bricks lining its frame, some of which rained to the ground below. A man dressed in a white lab coat was several feet away from Lois. He looked like a doctor, but scanning him quickly Clark saw through the fake beard and mustache.

Clark slammed into the imposter with brutal force, knocking the man into an unconscious heap on the floor. Startled by his action, he immediately froze wide-eyed at the body beneath him. Instantly his fingers slid to the man's neck and breathed a sigh of relief at the feel of a pulse.

He didn't deserve it. No matter how many lives Knightly had wrecked, his victims were best served knowing he was rotting away in a maximum-security prison, spending 23 hours a day staring at stark white walls in an 8 x 10 foot cell with nothing but his own twisted thoughts to keep him company. This time, he'd make sure he stayed there.

Clark looked back at Lois, who lay still in the bed. Scanning her he saw she remained unharmed, Knightly had not had the chance to hurt her. He had arrived in time.

Moments later, two guards rushed in with guns drawn. They stared aghast at Superman's towering form, dropping their heads in shame at their own incompetence for allowing the criminal to fool them. Immediately they set about removing the noxious form occupying the floor.

A soft whimper startled Clark, and he turned round and caught sight of the most beautiful brown eyes.

"Superman?"

Her fragile voice melted his smoldering pain. He sped over to her side, wanting to embrace her but conscious more than ever the need to keep a professional distance.

A warm breeze coming through the space once occupied by the window made wisps of hair dance about her forehead. Gazing weakly over to her side she let slip, "Boy, you sure know how to make an entrance."

Clark smiled. That was his Lois all right. "Good evening, Ms. Lane."

The next several minutes were spent in a daze as he assisted the guards pick Knightly off the floor and lower him onto a gurney. As they wheeled him away, a lone figure stood in the doorway.

Dr. Stein's eyes traced the mess on the floor. Broken sheets of white painted drywall lay jumbled with bits of brick across the floor, and the metal beams holding up the wall were badly warped. He closed the door behind him and picked up a stool which had been thrown across the room during the chaos. Brushing drywall dust off the seat he placed it beside the bed.

The doctor sat down and kicked broken shards of brick away with his foot. "How are you feeling?"

Lois glanced nervously over at Clark. "Like hell."

"You had us both worried there for a while," Dr. Stein said as he checked the machines she was hooked up to. "But with lots of rest I think both of you will be just fine."

"What did you do?" Clark asked.

Dr. Stein smiled as he removed a heating blanket and ice pack from the bed. "Something high tech and innovative."

Lois shot up out of bed and a sharp pain seared through her body. "Wait a second. What do you mean both of us?"

Dr. Stein's smile grew broad and he asked Clark, "Did you want to tell her or shall I?"

Before he could respond Lois interjected, "Tell me what?" As soon as the words left her mouth she knew what _what_ was. But her throbbing head made no sense as to why he was talking about it with Superman. She smiled sheepishly at Clark and mouthed as the doctor turned his head, "Surprise!"

TO BE CONTINUED


	9. Reality Bites

**Chapter 9: Reality Bites**

**A/N:** I'm sorry if I lay on the cheese a little thickly this chapter...

"Oh, thank you sweetie." Lois held the Coke bottle Jason gave her up to the light. The red sand sashayed against the glass as she twirled it round delicately as though it were a precious gem. "It's beautiful."

Jason gleaned proudly, "I made it myself." He curled up beside her on the hospital bed, his head resting on the pillow.

Lois laughed, tugging his shoulder gently and recalling a moment two months ago when he brought home from school a white ceramic handprint framed by a red heart. While single and kid-free, she failed to hide her contempt whenever called upon a colleague to comment on a child's artwork. Eventually she'd been left out of those conversations altogether. But when Jason brought home that heart, only lack of time prevented her from contacting the Guggenheim.

As Jason continued babbling, Lois slowly wondered which one of them had been hit over the head. For it certainly wasn't her son laying next to her, because he'd never spoken so many words in his short life, much less in one conversation. And yet here he was carrying on as though he'd been so all his life. Who would have known? Her son inherited her gift for the gab. His normally quiet demeanor exploded with enthusiasm as though a dam burst. His thoughts and sentences splattered all over her, seldom coherent and nearly impossible to follow. Dimly she wondered if this was how she sounded to Clark when hot on a story trail.

"Betcha can't guess from where!" The question jarred her, but before she could comprehend it Jason leaped over her into Clark's arms, ignoring belated pleas to be careful. The boy wrapped his arms around him and giggled as they glanced at each other and back at Lois conspiratorially.

A warm smile crept up her face, realizing that she'd slept through more than the hunt for Knightly. Something vital had changed between father and son. Her reporter instinct kicking in she said, "What's going on with you two?"

Jason giggled hysterically, which set her mind ablaze with possible scenarios. She'd used the same expression many times in the past when she thought she'd outsmarted Clark, especially in the early days of their friendship. Her mild irritation at seeing that expression on someone else's face, albeit her son's, was replaced with shock moments later. For as annoying as it was to see, she thought for sure she'd been the donator of that particular trait, but one look at Clark sent that certainty into doubt.

Leaning back, her long brown curls splayed wildly atop the white pillow. The stress her body had been put through these last few days left imprints in her limbs, and she tried not to wince as she shifted on the bed. With any luck, the doctor would allow her to go home today, and she wasn't about to give him reason to doubt her fitness to do so.

Since she awoke, she faced a barrage of questions from police about the incident and of Knightly. Never the most even-tempered woman, she despised being on the receiving end of an investigation. It reiterated her helplessness of the whole event, and Lois did not like feeling helpless.

And yet she remained calm and professional during the interview, plastering on a smile that felt more fake than one painted on a clown. She suspected though that the real reason for her impatience was that the lead investigator was Terrance Turnbull, a detective she'd butted heads with on many an investigation. Always evasive, he never revealed more than he intended her to know, but fortunately his subordinates were cut from a softer cloth. In their last encounter he retorted smartly about how she could come up with so many ways to ask the same question. Man, she hated his guts.

But now Turnbull and his inquisitors had moved on to other cases, and afterwards, in fleeting states of awareness, she'd spoken with Clark, mostly about inane subjects such as how she was feeling that day or what was happening at the Planet. She tactfully avoided any mention of the subjects he wanted to broach, and he'd grown increasingly frustrated with her deflections.

An hour later Lois received her walking papers, much to Clark's protest. She promised that she would rest and take it slow the next few days, a bald-faced lie she knew Clark deciphered completely before the sentence fully departed her mouth.

They returned home via the Superman Express, landing softly on Lois' balcony after the short, silent flight. She darted inside and made a beeline for the kitchen, and immediately pulled out a frying pan and placed it on the stove.

Clark followed her inside, still dressed in blue tights. He folded his arms across his chest and stared in mocked disbelief. "What are you doing?"

It's as though she expected the clangs and slams of pots and pans to speak for her, but, she surmised, even Superman couldn't translate such a language. "I'm making bacon and eggs."

He gave her a disappointed look.

"Look, Clark, I've eaten nothing but hospital food for the last week, and I'm being generous here, using the word food." She raised a hand and gestured quote marks around her last word. "I'm hungry."

He wanted to make a comment about how she was always hungry but held his tongue.

Lois pulled the egg carton out of the fridge. "And then, I'm going into the office to catch up on work."

"But don't you think you should rest?" Stupid question to ask Lois Lane, he knew. But she had no stories to work on, he made sure of it. It took much convincing but he got Perry to back him up, the Chief only relenting when Clark agreed to take the brunt of her wrath when she learned of their pact. He hoped she'd be kind and get it over with quickly.

She turned round and glared at him. "Clark, stop dawdling over me. I'm not going to break in half just because I had a minor setback. Next thing I know you're going to chain me to the bed."

He gestured absently to his nose before realizing he didn't have on his glasses. "Of course not. It's just that you're recovering. You know what the doctor said about putting too much strain..."

"Strain? I'm fine, Clark. The doctor said I'm fine." She cracked an egg on the side of the pan with too much force, shattering it and sending yellow yoke oozing down the side of the oven. "Shit!"

Six months ago, he'd have let her get away with it, would have let Hurricane Lois blow over. But he'd been learning about how to be in a relationship, to be an equal partner. An outsider all his life, he'd never been a part of anything before, and this role had a steep curve he was determined to learn. "Lois, what's wrong?"

She threw the mangled shell into the sink and wrung her hands in a towel, then turned to face him, silently counting to ten as she did so. "I'm sorry, Clark. I didn't mean to snap at you."

This whole relationship business was new to the both of them. And the sad part was, she was better at it than he was. She laughed at the thought as Clark's gaze peered at her curiously. How could she tell him what was on her mind? She chose her next words carefully, searching for a balance between speaking the truth and saying what needed to be said. "When Knightly attacked me, I called for you. And you didn't come. I thought for a moment you had left again."

Of all the things she could have said he'd never expected _that_. "I'm sorry, Lois. If there was any way I could have…"

"You don't need to apologize." She breathed deeply and said in an exhale, "It's just at that moment I realized I was still afraid."

"It's okay to be scared, Lois. Knightly was…"

"No, Clark. You don't understand. Those seconds after I called for you I don't even remember what Knightly did. All I could think about was how much I was still afraid that you would leave me again, or maybe that you already had done so." She paused a moment. "And I never felt so ashamed of myself."

Clark started to protest but she silenced him with a wave.

"I was ashamed because I know that that's not what you expect of me, or what I expect of myself. I'm stronger than that. You need to know that I can handle it. I love you, Clark. But what's kept me strong in this relationship is knowing that I can survive anything, even losing you."

Clark looked down at his feet, hating the sacrifices he had to make just to be himself, even more so those the people he loved had to make because of him.

"I know you're greatest fear is that being with me puts me and Jason in danger. But my greatest fear is that some day you'll fly out that window and not come back. And the worst part is, I'm more worried that you'll leave because of me than anything that might happen to you."

He inched towards her, her pain reflecting back at him as a mirror that caught a sun's ray, so powerful and blinding, it took all his strength not to turn away. "Nothing could ever tear me away from you again."

She looked up at him sadly. "I know you believe that, Clark. But we both know you can't give that kind of assurance, and I'm not asking for it. Because someday, somewhere, someone is going to learn about us, or about Jason. And it's not a question of if, it's a question of when. And you'll think leaving is the only way to protect us."

Clark stood up straight when he realized he'd been leaning on the countertop for support. "Lois, when I heard about what happened and saw you in the hospital, I've never been so frightened. I didn't want to think about what it'd be like if I'd lost you." He shifted his weight from foot to foot, startled by his own certainty. "But there's one thing that you haven't realized yet, and that is you are stronger than me. You can live without me, but I don't think I could live without you."

She looked at him strangely and grinned despite herself. She was the man of steel's weakness, and danger be damned, it felt _so_ good. But this wasn't a time for sarcasm. "You're going to be a father again," she said softly.

Clark lit up and reciprocated her smile, then laughed nervously, nodding his head. "You know, Lois, growing up was very difficult for me. I was awkward and unsure of myself. All these powers were emerging and I had no idea why or how to control them. But as I got older and comprehended what I could do they only made me feel more isolated. You have given me the one thing in this universe that I dreamed of most and never believed I could attain." And it didn't matter that another child increased exponentially the risk of discovery. He had a family now, and nothing and no one was going to take that away from him.

"Are you nervous?"

He laughed again. "You have no idea."

Lois told him about Jason's earliest years, but hearing about them and living through them were two entirely different concepts. Suddenly an image of him lying on the couch with an infant fast asleep on his chest flashed in her mind. While she lay unconscious he'd won over Jason, she could only imagine what he'd be like without a five-year handicap. _God help the kid if it was a girl_.

She watched his eyes grow distant and knew the conversation must come to an end. "Go, and if you get back by lunchtime pick up some Chinese takeout."

He eyed her peculiarly. "What about the eggs?"

She looked at him slyly. "Lunch is over an hour away. I'll be hungry again by then."

_Her appetite. But at least now she had an excuse. _He sped off into the sky and moments later disarmed two perpetrators of a jewelry store heist. The shop owner thanked him profusely as he ranted on about a new shipment of rings and necklaces that had just arrived that morning, and Clark couldn't help but agree how beautiful they all were.

TO BE CONTINUED


	10. Coincidences

**A/N:** I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I usually try to send a personalized response but for some reason I haven't been getting any emails from this site lately…

**Chapter 10: Coincidences**

48 hours. That's how long she humored Clark and stayed home from work. Of course, in Lois Lane's world, not being at work was not synonymous with not working, and in between his globetrotting affairs she sneaked calls to contacts to find out what's been brewing on the streets. In the last two days she gathered enough information to construct a front-page worthy article on a regional accounting firm suspected of swindling its customers out of millions. Last night she snuck the finished story into her briefcase so that she could hand it to Perry the moment she set foot inside the Daily Planet.

The window blinds failed to keep out the morning sun, and its rays grazed her face in parallel lines as her eyes grew used to the light. She stirred in bed, still feeling the tension in her muscles and limbs and absently fingering the thick bandage over her abdomen. Stretching her arms out wide she released a loud, lazy yawn, which converted into a short yelp when her hand smacked against something warm.

"Good morning." Clark's voice, so soft and soothing, would make an icicle happily sing about sunshine if it could.

Her warm brown eyes grew wide, saying for her what her voice did not. Seeing him in the morning light was so rare. So many times she awoke to a handwritten note or freshly cut rose on her pillow, an apology for having to "take care of business." But today, his normally majestic form was slovenly sprawled on the bed, his chiseled chest facing her as one hand propped his head up to look at her.

"You look so beautiful when you sleep." He ran his free hand through his unkempt hair, as if to say he did not.

Despite his sincere tone she couldn't prevent rolling her eyes. "I bet you say that to all the girls," she replied mockingly, lying back down on her pillow.

He grinned his sexy grin, the one she knew he reserved only for her. "Only the pretty ones who drool on their pillows."

As he finished, Lois pulled the pillow out from under his head and swatted him hard. Waves of tiny white feathers sputtered into the air, and she got in another jab before Clark threw up his arms to block her next blow. He pulled himself on top of her, gently ripping the offending pillow from her grasp and holding it above his head. She tried grasping for it, using his shoulder as leverage, but each time she got close he'd inch higher into the air until he lost contact with the bed.

"That's not fair," she grumbled, "no superpowers allowed." Just then a knock at the door distracted her, and Clark used the moment to return the favor. She yelped and broke free of his grasp just as a head poked its way through the open door.

It had only been Jason's intention to remind his mother that she promised to make him blueberry pancakes this morning. Only later, when Lois thought back on this day, did she wonder if her little boy had already begun exhibiting his father's gift for x-ray vision. Because Jason, already clutching his own pillow, ran into the room, arms and pillow raised high over his head in a valiant attempt to protect his mother. He jumped up on the bed, swatting Clark as he did so and landing a blow squarely into his face. Clark dropped onto the bed amidst a chorus of laughter.

"Not fair, huh? What about two against one?"

Lois shrugged, suddenly not caring much about fairness. She and Jason positioned themselves on opposite sides of Clark as they pelted him with their pillows. Each landed a handful of blows before Clark ducked and they hit each other, and continued to do so as he shut his eyes and flattened himself against the bed. Finally he grabbed hold of both of them, one in each arm, and dragged them to his sides. They sat laughing for several moments as the loosened feathers rained down upon them, after which Jason reminded his mother about the pancakes.

Begrudgingly she arose from the bed and slipped into a bathrobe while Jason sped out the door to the kitchen, dragging his pillow along the floor as he did so and releasing what remained of its contents. Clark lay back on the bed and tucked his hands behind his head and watched her silently. They smiled at each other before she walked out the door.

Once she disappeared around the corner, he zeroed in to the kitchen, his line of sight taking him through the hall bathroom and out to the living room where Jason was loading his backpack. As Lois entered the kitchen, he watched her move from the stove to the fridge and over to Jason. Her movements were so fluid and natural it was like watching a ballerina on stage. Of course, that was a thought she'd probably hang him for thinking, much less saying aloud.

But Clark recalled the subject of family and children coming up years ago when they'd first become partners. He could still picture her disgusted face when he told her she'd make a great mother someday. She hadn't believed him then, but he'd been right. Jason was a testament to that.

While Lois flipped the first round of pancakes, Clark pulled a brown suit from the closet. When Lois came home from the hospital he'd brought several sets of clothing over to her place. She hadn't said a word when he hung them up in her closet. He dressed, buttoning his vest and wrapping a matching brown tie around his neck, staring in the mirror as he did so and frowning at the necessary lack of fashion sense his disguise required of him. He'd been in the store only last week and had to pass up a clean cut charcoal suit that fit his real personality and style perfectly.

Finally, he threw his coat over his arm then reached underneath the bed and pulled out a small plastic bag. Inside it was a small square box, its black velvet soft to the touch. He fought the urge to inspect its contents and instead slipped it into his coat pocket.

Back in the kitchen Jason placed a triangular-shaped slice of pancake into his mouth, while Lois was at the stove flipping another set. He draped his coat over the chair beside his son and walked into the kitchen and from behind slipped his arms around Lois and kissed her lightly on the neck. She politely refused his offer to finish up, instead tossing several pancakes onto an empty plate and handing it to him.

Though not very round, they were edible, and considering that fact they were one of Lois' better successes at cooking. As he finished Lois had only sat down, and for several minutes the three of them were all at the table together. Lois wolfed down her food as though someone was about to snatch away her plate, while Jason acted out a scene from an episode of SpongeBob SquarePants with his fork and knife. He sat silently watching the two, trying to comprehend why such a mundane activity fascinated him so much.

A few minutes later they were all walking Jason to his school. As they arrived and the boy said goodbye he hugged each parent accordingly and ran off into the building. As he climbed up the steps and turned around to wave, he called out something inaudible. Lois turned to go as Jason disappeared inside, but Clark watched him walk through the hallways to Mrs. Thomas' classroom.

Lois tugged at his hand but he wouldn't budge. "What is it?"

He didn't know how to describe it. It was a moment, in the months following Richard's departure, he'd accepted would never come. Without taking his eyes off Jason he said, "He just called me daddy."

* * *

Lois was bludgeoned with "welcome backs" as she stepped into the newsroom of the Daily Planet. Her co-workers elbowed Clark out of the way as they did so, much to his relief. He settled down into his seat and sorted through the paperwork atop his desk, keeping one ear concentrated on the crowd of well-wishers and the other on the TV screen. He was relieved things had gotten back to normal.

Perry's voice calling his name brought his nose out of a folder. The older man gestured to join him in his office, his demeanor uncharacteristically subdued. Clark obeyed and followed him inside as Perry shut the door behind him.

The Chief adjusted the blinds to deflect the sun's rays that had focused distractedly upon Clark's sitting form. He crossed his arms and paced around the office, stopping to place a pen lying on the desk into its proper holder.

Clark shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The last time Perry looked at him like that, he'd warned him Lois was cheating on him with Superman.

"How are you doing? I know that the last few days must have been very difficult for you."

"Oh, yes. But Lois is much better now, Mr. White. And all her colleagues giving their wishes have helped. Thank you so much for giving her time off from work. I know she appreciated it."

_Yeah right! And you know that's a sock of shit too._ Perry stared at the man disappointedly as he witnessed Clark revert back into his old self. Gone was the self-assured man who told him in no uncertain terms Jason would not leave his side, the man who demanded he force Lois into an unscheduled vacation. He hoped they'd gained a new understanding, but whatever trust he thought he built he'd been clearly mistaken.

"I wanted to apologize for what I said to you that day in the bar. I was out of line and it was none of my business."

Clark pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Oh that's okay, Mr. White. I know you were just trying to be nice. You wouldn't have said what you did if you didn't care and I appreciate that you do."

His Midwestern politeness irked Perry as though he was dragging fingernails across a chalkboard. He sighed deeply. "I wish all the best for you." And he meant it. But in spite his words, and all that happened with Knightly, the situation still bothered him. _Something just didn't add up._

He'd been about to dig deeper when the news feed that played nonstop in his office was interrupted with a special bulletin. A massive earthquake had just hit San Francisco and the mayor was on television pleading for Superman's assistance. It was a heartfelt plea that even Perry felt.

Clark shot out of his seat, his eyes not leaving the screen. "Mr. White. I, uh, just remembered that I have to uh, meet a contact about a story I'm working on." He said no more as he sped out the door, much like, to Perry's observation, in the same manner he'd left so many conversations.

_What story would that be? _He hadn't assigned him anything yet. Perry rolled his eyes, peeved about Clark's disappearing acts and annoyed at himself for letting him get away with it. _I wonder how Lois puts up with it. If he weren't such a great writer…_

If this past week taught him anything about Clark, it's that he was much more astute and aware than anyone gave him credit for.

Which begged the question, why did he accept Lois was fooling around with Superman? Perry saw them together. Okay, so he _heard_ them. But he knew he wasn't wrong.

And Lois. Why would she, so soon after Superman's return, instead fall madly in love with Clark Kent? He could understand her leaving Richard for Superman. After all, they had a history and was in all likelihood the father of… _No, don't go there_.

But she was still with Superman. Somehow she was with Superman and Clark. It all came down to Lois. At the end of the day, despite all her faults, she was a one-man woman.

And Superman would never pursue her if he knew she were involved with someone else.

Something didn't add up.

Why the hell did he care anyway?

He barely had time to contemplate the thought when Superman miraculously appeared on the screen. "I'll be damned. That guy's quick." His brows furrowed as he spoke aloud his next thought. "It's as though he sits around watching the tube all day waiting for these things to happen."

A knock at the door interrupted his train of thought. "What is it Jimmy?"

The young man looked at him nervously. "Sorry, Chief. But I just saw the TV and I was wondering if you were going to, well, you know, if you were…"

Was this damn kid asking to be sent on assignment to San Francisco? Suddenly, Perry just wanted him out of his face. "Sure, kid. Pack your bags, and take Kent along with you whenever he returns from… wherever the hell he is."

His face lit up, which was in direct contrast to the way he said his next question. "Clark?"

"Yes, Clark! You have a problem with that?"

"No, Chief! It's just that it's a Superman story."

"So?" Why wasn't the kid already out the door? _He got what he wanted, a big assignment!_

Jimmy nervously flipped the lens cap off and on his camera. "Well, wouldn't it make more sense to send Lois? I know she just got back but…"

"Superman will talk to Clark."

"Really? I've never seen them together."

Perry frowned. "What the hell are you talking about? Clark's brought in Superman exclusives plenty of times." Just then Perry's phone rang. He spoke briefly to the person on the other end and slammed the handset down. His last conversation with Clark earlier in the week suddenly popped into his mind. "He looks like Clark."

"Who looks like Clark?"

Aware that he unintentionally spoke his last thought aloud, he changed his question. "Jimmy, when did Clark return to work?"

Startled by the question from left field he responded, "About eight months ago, why?"

"The date! What was the exact date?"

Jimmy responded proudly, "September 6. I remember because I baked him a cake…"

_The same day as the shuttle accident. The day Superman came back._ He looked up to see Jimmy staring at him expectantly. "What the hell are you still doing here? Get out!"

As Jimmy scrambled out of his office, Perry picked up the phone and asked to be connected to human resources. While on hold, he told himself it was just a coincidence. Jason looked like Clark, but Jason was probably Superman's… _don't finish that thought_. Plus, Clark bore more than a passing resemblance to Superman. Even he saw it. He just dismissed a correlation because of his meek behavior. _Meek behavior that morphed into assertiveness the moment he knew Lois to be in danger_.

He was connected to Ian, the department manager, who quickly delivered the seemingly innocuous information he sought. His next call was to records.

His questions – when did Superman first appear, and when did he leave? Perry's mouth sat agape as, one by one, the man on the other end of the line ran off the dates.

"It's just a coincidence," Perry said aloud. But as ludicrous as it sounded, it made sense.

Perry smiled his widest grin. He rubbed his hands together and said to himself with a giddiness he hadn't felt in years, "I've got the exclusive of the century." And with that, Perry started typing.

TO BE CONTINUED


End file.
